


You’re Gonna Have to Let Me Grow Up: the campaign to rescue Sam’s image in five easy steps

by amonitrate



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Meta, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-08-20 06:37:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 41
Words: 68,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8239544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amonitrate/pseuds/amonitrate
Summary: Taking Sam so far darkside in season 4 made for good television, but it also painted the writers into a corner. So the problem became how to quickly rehabilitate Sam’s character in season 5, how to restore him to sympathetic hero status both narratively and in the eyes of the audience.





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Content note: this meta contains descriptions of violent assault and strangulation as depicted in canon events in season 4.
> 
> Excerpts from episode transcripts via the Supernatural Wiki.
> 
> This essay assumes prior knowledge of the concept of "parentification." For more information please see my previous meta on LJ and tumblr and http://www.parentification.ua.edu/what-is-parentification.html
> 
> I want to thank @veneredirimmel, @nottherealdean, @intentioncrafts, and @guidedbyamara on tumblr for a series of discussions that led to this meta. I’ve been working on this baby for over a year and couldn’t have done it without them.

It’s a moment of heightened drama: tension between two brothers has built all season to the breaking point. The men face each other with tears in their eyes. Emotional words are exchanged, but all common ground has vanished, and the words are replaced by blows. The fight is quickly over, leaving one brother panting in pain on the floor of a hotel room. There’s a long horrible pause and then the other man crosses the room. Straddles his brother. Wraps his hands around his neck. And strangles him.

Taking Sam so far darkside in season 4 made for good television, but it also painted the writers into a corner. In the course of his pursuit of revenge on Lilith, Sam lied to his brother, attacked and strangled him when challenged, and then murdered a woman for her blood. Signalling their awareness of how far over the line they’d taken Sam, the writers lampshaded Sam’s behavior by having Chuck tell Sam he “was afraid it would make you look unsympathetic” if he included Sam’s blood drinking in the Supernatural books. It’s also evidence of their fear that Sam might have become too unsympathetic for the audience. 

The SPN writers already had a track record of keeping their fingers on the pulse of fandom and making significant changes when the fandom was displeased. When it aired, season 4 sparked intense disagreement in fandom, with factions passionately defending and rationalizing Sam’s actions and factions just as passionately condemning them. Apparently even actor Jared Padalecki shared fears about his character with TPTB in early season 5. 

So the problem became how to quickly rehabilitate Sam’s character in season 5, how to restore him to sympathetic hero status both narratively and in the eyes of the audience. There were a couple of ways this could have happened. Sam could have been held responsible for his actions, been confronted with how he harmed people, and started on a long hard path of facing himself, changing, and making amends. But there were already strong hints in season 4 that the writers intended to avoid this altogether. And the solution they would ultimately settle on was also well established by the end of season 4.

Luckily, they’d already created a character conditioned from childhood to take on blame for Sam’s actions.

It’s impossible for me to determine whether the tactics the show ended up using to rehabilitate Sam were selected intentionally or whether they were organic to TPTB’s existing understanding of the characters and their relationship. After extensively analyzing these episodes I believe the truth probably lies somewhere in the middle. They were overtly aware of the problem: narratively, Sam was no longer remotely a “good guy;” he was barely in anti-hero territory. And externally they were painfully aware of the fandom uproar. The solution they settled on and how they went about implementing it is so closely tied to the dynamics of abusive and dysfunctional families, specifically replicating the dynamics of parentification and emotional abuse, that it starts to look to me like a case of uncritically writing what you know. 

I originally attempted to write a meta about season 5 and how the more deeply I looked at it the more disturbed I was at the way the narrative manipulates the story and the audience for specific ends. But as I tried to make those connections, it became obvious that the narrative can only succeed in this manipulation by taking advantage of the hiatus between seasons to warp and gloss over the events of season 4 and hoping no one notices. 

Therefore my scope expanded to include placing season 5 back solidly into the context of season 4: something the show does its best to resist. My focus lies with questioning what the narrative is doing, its intentions. This is therefore not a comprehensive discussion of the seasons as a whole. Much more could have been written, especially about season 4, but in the interests of length I have stuck to mostly summarizing that season. 

This meta has a specific point of view and does not pretend to “mistakes were made on both sides” equivalency. My main point is that “mistakes were made on both sides” is a far from neutral conclusion to make about these events and is in fact the tactical starting point the narrative employs to manipulate the audience in order to restore Sam to hero status without putting in the work to do so organically.


	2. Chapter 2

Recall that season 4 begins with Dean digging his way out of his grave. He rejoins Bobby and goes looking for Sam, certain Sam has made a demon deal to resurrect him. He and Bobby find Sam in a motel room, and the door is answered by a woman who will later be revealed to be Ruby in a new host body.

When Ruby pretends not to recognize Dean and Bobby, Sam continues her deception without missing a beat, acting as if she’s a one night stand and he doesn’t know her name. Sam’s first act upon Dean’s return from hell is to lie to him about a demon. Later Dean asks what happened to Ruby and Sam tells him he doesn’t know, that she’s dead or in hell. Which doubles down on that first lie. Dean demands to know whether Sam has been using his powers, and Sam insists he hasn’t been. A third lie.

Sam’s string of lies leads to this exchange:

> RUBY
> 
> So. Million dollar question, are you going to tell Dean about what we're doing?
> 
> SAM
> 
> Yeah, I just gotta figure out the right way to say it.
> 
> (RUBY gives him a look)
> 
> Look, I just need time, okay? That's all.
> 
> RUBY
> 
> Sam, he's going to find out, and if it's not from you he's going to be pissed.
> 
> SAM
> 
> He's going to be pissed anyway. I mean, he's so hardheaded about this psychic stuff he'll just try and stop me.

Sam then affirms to Ruby that what he’s doing feels good and he wants to continue.

This scene makes it explicit that:

  1. a) Sam started drinking blood and using his powers in pursuit of Lilith well before Dean came back from hell.
  2. b) Sam characterizes Dean’s prescient warnings in season 3 as Dean being “hardheaded about this psychic stuff” -- Sam has a pattern of minimizing and dismissing Dean’s (accurate) objections in this manner, as we’ll see.
  3. c) Sam’s motivation for lying to Dean is that Dean will try to stop him.



Sam anticipates Dean’s disapproval of his choices and refuses to own what he’s doing -- because he knows it’s questionable but doesn’t want to be stopped, and also doesn’t want to deal with Dean’s reaction -- and so lies to Dean. Dean later finds out that Sam has been lying about using his powers and that Ruby is alive when he discovers an exorcism in progress. Sam will eventually tell Dean he’s decided to stop using his powers, not because Dean wants it, but for Sam himself, because “These powers... it's playing with fire.”

However, his decision to stop is short lived, as he’s shown using them again three episodes later. Whether or not he also stopped drinking blood during that period is up to interpretation, but he is able to access his powers against Samhain in “It’s the Great Pumpkin” without difficulty. All of this fits the pattern of a progressing addiction, but it’s complicated by the fact that Sam’s powers do save lives. This is the slippery slope, the temptation. It’s not only Ruby massaging his ego or a desire to feel more powerful that hooks Sam, but the desire to save more people as well, and that’s one of the hardest parts to resist, as we’ll see him bring it up again in season 5.

Several people will question or warn Sam about the danger of what he’s doing over the course of the season, and Sam will veer between sharing their doubts and rationalizing his choices. So it’s not only Dean’s “hardheadedness” objecting to Sam’s actions; but Sam maintains this stance towards Dean, as if Dean is the sole irrational dissenting voice, therefore easily dismissed. This dynamic will return with a vengeance in the season finale and continue to be an undercurrent of season 5.

In “Great Pumpkin” Sam starts using his powers out in the open and Dean ceases objecting to them. After “I know what you did last summer,” Dean and Ruby reach a reluctant truce based on Sam vouching for her having saved his life while Dean was in hell. What Sam hasn’t told Dean, however, is that his powers are fueled by drinking her blood. This comes to a head in 4.20 “The Rapture,” the episode where Castiel’s vessel Jimmy Novak is introduced.

In order to protect Jimmy, Sam and Dean attempt to prevent him from returning to his family after Castiel vanishes. While he’s supposed to be on watch, Sam leaves the motel room to get blood from Ruby, who has disappeared, leaving him in withdrawal. Jimmy takes advantage of Sam’s lapse to leave. After Sam is unable to use his powers to help Jimmy and Amelia when they’re subsequently attacked by demons, Dean tries to ask what’s going on, saying Sam is scaring him. In a lie of omission Sam answers that he’s scaring himself but doesn’t explain further.

In the climax of the episode Sam’s blood consumption is dramatically revealed when in order to access his powers he drinks straight from a possessed human during the fight. This is how Dean finds out what Sam has been concealing all year: when he sees Sam with blood smeared over his mouth.

> SAM
> 
> Drop the bomb, man. You saw what I did. Come on, stop the car, take a swing.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> I'm not gonna take a swing.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Then scream, chew me out.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> I'm not mad, Sam.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Come on. You're not mad?
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Nope.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Right. Look, at least let me explain myself.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Don't. I don't care.
> 
> SAM
> 
> You don't care?
> 
> DEAN
> 
> What do you want me to say, that I'm disappointed? Yeah, I am. But, mostly, I'm just tired, man. I'm done. I am just done.

From Dean’s perspective, this is further revelation of the extent to which Sam’s been lying to him since he got back from hell, paired with the horrifying realization of exactly what his brother has been doing to fuel his powers. Dean doesn’t attempt to reason with Sam, which is the only way to deal with someone this far into denial and rationalizations. Instead, Bobby and Dean lock Sam into the panic room where he begins going through withdrawal.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam justifies drinking blood as necessary to make him strong enough to kill Lilith, a task he’s decided (and Ruby has encouraged him to believe) he alone can accomplish. Once locked up he calls Dean self-righteous: for interfering, for judging his blood drinking, for objecting at all, for trying to protect Sam from himself?

Bobby suggests they should let Sam continue drinking blood in order to use his powers given the Apocalypse. That maybe they “love him too much” to do the smart thing.

In the panic room, Sam hallucinates Mary saying she’s proud of him:

> SAM  
> What if it's stronger than me? Look at me. What if Dean's right?
> 
> MARY  
>  **Dean can never know how strong you are, because Dean is weak.** Look at what he's done to you. Locking you in here? **He's terrified. He's in over his head.** You have to go on without him. You have what it takes. You have to kill Lilith.
> 
> SAM  
> Even if it kills me.
> 
> MARY  
> Make my death mean something. I'm counting on you, Sam. **Don't let anyone or anything get in your way. Not even Dean.**

These hallucinations are Sam’s own mind talking to him, his thoughts projected: Dean is weak for locking Sam up, Dean is weak for being terrified, Dean is weak for objecting to Sam turning himself into a monster via drinking the blood of possessed human beings. Dean is in Sam’s way. Dean is only acting from a desire to stop Sam from growing up and doing what needs to be done.

There’s an undercurrent throughout the series where Dean is resented for being right -- for his accurate perception of what’s going on and the inevitable consequences. Sam is pissed at Dean for being right about Ruby and about what he’s doing; in s6 Cas is pissed at Dean for being right about what *he’s* doing.

It’s weird because the show consistently sets Dean up this way: his perceptions are again and again shown to be on the mark and events tend to play out as he warns; but then the show undermines this through insisting how he expresses this is the real problem, through erasure of what actually happened and the way the other characters treat him, the blame shifting, the way he accepts the blame. You can watch it playing out again over seasons 10-11.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Dean calls Cas for help. Cas tells Dean that the amount of blood Sam would need to consume to kill Lilith would change him forever and promises that if Dean pledges himself to heaven, Sam won’t have to take that step to stop the Apocalypse. Meanwhile, Sam’s withdrawal symptoms become more dramatic.

> BOBBY  
> I'm gonna ask one more time. Are we absolutely sure we're doing the right thing?
> 
> DEAN  
> Bobby, you saw what was happening to him down there. The demon blood is killing him.
> 
> BOBBY  
> No, it isn't. We are.
> 
> DEAN  
> What?
> 
> BOBBY  
> I'm sorry. I can't bite my tongue any longer. We're killing him. Keeping him locked up down there. **This cold-turkey thing isn't working.** If—if he doesn't get what he needs, soon, Sam's not gonna last much longer.

First Bobby argued they shouldn’t allow the withdrawal to continue because they need Sam’s powers, suggesting they continue to let him drink blood and sacrifice him for the greater good. Now suddenly Bobby’s arguing as if he’s worried about Sam’s well-being. On the surface these stances appear directly contradictory -- a dizzying reversal within the same conversation -- but both arguments boil down to Sam continuing his addiction. Both arguments also counter what Dean thinks is the right thing to do.

Bobby echoes the shifting rationalizations of addiction. Use of the substance is needed, justified, to make the user better, stronger, or to stave off weakness. Withdrawal from the substance is death. Cold turkey is death, it won’t work, it will kill the addict. The addict can’t live without the substance. Bobby’s words here are the inner voice of the addiction personified, trying to negotiate and deal in order to stop the process of getting sober.

> DEAN  
> No. I'm not giving him demon blood. I won't do it.
> 
> BOBBY  
> And if he dies?
> 
> DEAN  
> Then at least he dies human!

Dean says he won’t let Sam turn into a monster -- something Sam himself made Dean promise to prevent back in season 2. Meanwhile, Sam hallucinates Dean calling him a monster.

> DEAN  
>  **I know why you really drink that blood, Sam.**
> 
> SAM  
> Just leave me alone.
> 
> DEAN  
>  **Makes you feel strong. Invincible. A big bad wolf in a world of little pigs.**
> 
> SAM  
> No. You're wrong, Dean.
> 
> DEAN  
> It's more than that, isn't it? It's because your whole life, you felt different. Am I right?
> 
> SAM  
> Stop.
> 
> DEAN  
> Oh, I hit a little close to home, huh? Not different because you were some lonely kid or because of your weirdo family.
> 
> SAM  
> Stop it.
> 
> DEAN  
> Because you're a monster.
> 
> SAM  
> Shut up! Just—shut. The hell. Up.
> 
> DEAN  
>  **You were always a monster.** And you only feel right when you're sucking down more poison and more evil.

Sam’s own mind taunts him with the idea that one of his motivations for drinking blood is that it makes him feel not only powerful, but “a big bad wolf in a world of little pigs” -- superior. A predator. The other main taunt is Sam’s fear (which repeats in a different form in season 8) that he’s *always* been a monster. That there is something inherently monstrous about him -- that his actions are a result of his monstrousness, not the other way around. The other important thing to realize is that Sam personifies all his negative judgments about himself, his worst fears, as accusations coming from Dean. This plays a huge role in his reaction when Dean confronts him at the end of the episode.

More often than not in fandom the season’s addiction thread is viewed as the only thing going on in these scenes, and I have discussed it this way here, because Sam is addicted and his behavior follows suit. If seen ONLY in that context, as a metaphor for real life addiction, Sam seeing himself as a monster is to be interpreted as emotional, not literal. And Dean saying he won’t let Sam turn into a monster, then calling him a monster later, is harsh and awful.

However: given the universe of the show, we’re talking *literal monster* here. Sam is *drinking human blood.* First it was Ruby’s, who consents, and her host is “free range.” In “The Rapture” the killing of the demon host and drinking blood take place within a combat scene so is somewhat understandable, though still comes at the expense of the life of the possessed victim. But later he’ll be complicit in the murder of a possessed woman specifically in order to drink her blood.

It’s a progression, orchestrated by Ruby, but Sam is consenting at every step because it provides him with what he wants -- power -- and that’s the point of Ruby’s lines that she gave him choices and he chose the “right” way every time.

**On SPN, drinking blood is the sign of a literal monster.** This isn’t abusing alcohol, this is *drinking human blood* which in several cases involved the murder of the demon’s vessel to obtain. We’re told by Cas that drinking enough to kill Lilith will permanently change Sam. Anna says there’s something different about Sam. Pamela mentions it. Sam himself says he can feel it changing him and that it scares him. In 5.01 Chuck says that Sam’s body temperature had been inhuman and his eyes went black -- like a demon. It’s only the literal deus ex-machina of 5.01 that “erased” the effects of the demon blood that prevented this permanent change.

After having manipulated Dean into believing that a pledge to heaven would spare Sam, Castiel frees Sam from the panic room, ensuring that Sam rejoins Ruby and his quest to kill Lilith.

> RUBY  
> if you're gonna be strong enough to kill Lilith, you're gonna need more than I can give you now.
> 
> SAM  
> I know I need more. I get it. I know it's okay. I just— **I wish he'd trusted me, you know?** I just hope...you know, when all this is over...I hope we can fix things.

I wonder what Sam thinks “fixing things” would even look like at this point.

Dean’s distrust appears to feel like a betrayal to Sam, because he’s equating trust with complete capitulation to what he wants to do. Which is drink blood and turn himself into a monster. He acknowledged to Dean in 4.20 that he’d been lying to him, but he views those lies as justified, as means to an end, as something he had to do because of Dean. Despite the lies, despite knowing deep down that what he’s doing is changing himself in ways that terrify him, Sam still refuses to see any of this as a matter of his own behavior being *untrustworthy.* He wants unconditional support for whatever he’s rationalized he needs to do, regardless of his deception, and subtextually equates that with love.

What Sam wants is for Dean to enable him. Dean’s expected to put aside that he’s been massively deceived (and later strangled) and that what Sam’s doing is literally transforming himself into a monster. Dean’s just supposed to trust him despite all of that, because Sam decided he’s the only one strong enough to kill Lilith, despite several people warning him and his own doubts. At no time does it occur to him that the blood and powers might be affecting his own judgement and perceptions; no, the problem is Dean’s (and Chuck’s? and Pamela’s…?) perceptions of Sam’s behavior and actions. In the end Sam sides with the part of himself voiced by the hallucination of his mother, who says everything he wants to hear, instead of the voice of his younger self, which questioned him.


	4. Chapter 4

Despite Sam thinking he’s covered his tracks after his escape from the panic room, Dean easily finds his  location.

In the context of trying to stop Sam from turning himself into a monster, this next scene contains understandable advice, though it makes zero sense given that Bobby was for letting Sam juice up and turn himself into weapon against the apocalypse just a few scenes ago.

Bobby has become the mouthpiece for whatever the narrative wants to emphasize at a given moment, and his job is to say whatever is counter to what Dean is feeling or saying at the time. I guess you could interpret this as Bobby wanting Sam to be a weapon but under their control instead of Ruby’s influence, but that reading takes a stretch of interpretation to reach, and if intended by the writer could have easily been made clear in the scene. And this scene exists within the context of the following episode’s fallout to the strangulation, where again Bobby appears to exist in order to “correct” Dean’s reaction to what’s happening.

> BOBBY
> 
> Us finding Sam? It's gotta be about getting him back, not pushing him away.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Right.
> 
> BOBBY
> 
> I know you're mad, Dean. I understand. You got a right to be, but I'm just saying. Be good to him anyway. You gotta get through to him.

Bobby’s inconsistencies aside, this isn’t bad advice. Bobby acknowledges Dean has a right to his anger, but counsels that pushing Sam away will worsen the situation. It’s a pretty impossible ask given what’s happened, but at this point it’s not being framed in a way that disturbs me. That comes after the strangulation. It can be wisest to set aside justified anger, not in a way that says you’re not allowed to feel that way, but in order to reach someone, if that’s what you want to do.

I think Dean went into the situation thinking he was supposed to set aside his feelings to reach Sam, but when he got there the impulse to vent those feelings was too strong. It’s an understandable conflict, and why I talk later about how it would have been more effective to send Bobby after Sam. Dean is too close to the situation, and asking him to overcome the sense of betrayal is too much for him at that point.

The confrontation in the hotel room goes about as badly as it possibly could. Sam starts off trying to sound reasonable, saying he wants to talk. Dean sets a boundary, basically, that they can talk when Ruby’s dead. That may or may not be reasonable depending on how you look at it but it is an attempt to negotiate.  Given the circumstances it’s hard to blame him for wanting to kill Ruby, but it wasn’t the best approach to reach Sam.

> SAM
> 
> It's not what you think, Dean.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Look what she did to you. I mean, she up and vanishes weeks at a time, leaves you cracking out for another hit—
> 
> SAM
> 
> She was looking for Lilith.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> That is French for manipulating your ass ten ways from Sunday.
> 
> SAM
> 
> You're wrong, Dean.

Dean spells out exactly what Ruby has been doing. He’s seen the result of what Ruby has encouraged and the way she’s manipulated Sam’s access to her blood. Dean’s anger gives way to his freaked out worry. He knows if Sam succeeds at his plan, he’ll be permanently changed.

> DEAN
> 
> Sam, you're lying to yourself. I just want you to be okay. You would do the same for me. You know you would.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Just listen for a second. We got a lead on a demon close to Lilith. Come with us, Dean. We'll do this together.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> That sounds great. As long as it's you and me. Demon bitch is a dealbreaker. You kiss her goodbye, we can go right now.
> 
> SAM
> 
> I can't.

Again, Dean tries to set a boundary here: make a space where he and Sam can try to figure things out, but it can’t include Ruby. Sam is just as all-or-nothing about it, refusing to “kiss Ruby goodbye” and meet halfway, leaving Ruby alive but leaving her. Sam won’t agree to that because Sam needs Ruby. Not just for her blood, but for her enabling of the hubris that tells him he’s the only one who can stop Lilith. She’s the only one telling him what he wants to hear, and he needs to keep hearing it in order to counter his own doubts.

> SAM
> 
> Dean, I need her to help me kill Lilith.  **I know you can't wrap your head around it, but maybe one day you'll understand.** I'm the only one who can do this, Dean.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> No, you're not the one who's gonna do this.
> 
> SAM
> 
> **Right, that's right, I forgot. The angels think it's you** .

Let’s break this down: Dean just laid out exactly what’s been happening and has proven to be right on the money, from how to find Sam when Sam thinks he’s hiding, to how Ruby is manipulating him. He predicted the gist of this at the end of season 3, no less. He only relented on his judgment of Ruby in s4 because Sam vouched for her saving his life.

Sam says Dean’s wrong, rationalizes Ruby’s actions, then when Dean won’t back down and sticks to his boundary of excluding Ruby before he’ll agree to do anything with Sam, Sam gets condescending. Maybe one day Dean will understand what he’s doing, as if Dean doesn’t understand very well exactly what’s going on, as if he hasn’t just laid it bare. Next, Sam moves on to contemptuous sarcasm about how he sees himself as strong and Dean as weak, as if the possibility that Dean might succeed is laughable.

The particulars of whether or not Dean might be able to kill Lilith are less important than the theme of how Sam needs to see himself -- it’s been repeated through the season that Dean is weak, came back from hell different, that Sam is strong, needs to be strong because of Dean’s new weakness. * _ Dean can never know how strong you are, because Dean is weak.*  _ His hallucination of Mary underlines that maybe when Sam says that Dean doesn’t “know” him and “never did” it’s more about his need to feel powerful in the face of his perception of how Dean views him than it is anything else, because Dean’s proven repeatedly he knows Sam too well for Sam’s comfort. In “Fallen Idols” he’ll say that Dean making him feel like a little brother (read: weak) drove his need to feel strong by going off with Ruby.

Sam believes Dean sees him as weak because he needs looking after. What is Dean locking him in the panic room to stop him from becoming a monster but a continuation in the extreme of the responsibility John (and Sam himself) put on Dean to “save Sam or kill him” in s2 -- this very promise implicitly positions Sam as weak, as unable to save himself, as a child that needs taken care of. “Weak” gets an added connotation when it comes to his addiction to demon blood -- in Sam’s subconscious, is his weakness that he can’t stop now?

It’s a core struggle for Sam: this “you need to let me grow up” theme that later comes up in season 5 has roots in Sam’s need to feel powerful and why he feels like he needs Dean’s permission to “grow up.” But in Sam’s mind, he can’t be Dean’s adult equal, he has to be * _ more powerful than _ .* If Dean came back from hell changed, with something missing, Sam has to step up. He has to be the one in control, he has to see himself in the big brother role, the savior role. There has to be a complete reversal in the relationship as he perceives it instead of a shift to equality. Not only a reversal -- he has to exceed Dean. He has to be a big bad wolf in a world of little pigs.

Down deep he sees Dean as being more powerful than him because Dean was older and left responsible for him as a child, therefore he needs to flip that script to maintain a sense of stability for himself if Dean is unable to fill that role after hell. There’s a lot more here, having to do with how he sees himself as failing to save Dean from hell when he sees Dean as having saved him in s2 as well as in childhood. This is in part the legacy of John’s parentification of Dean and neglect of both sons.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean bristles at the idea that he’s “not strong enough” to do anything, despite expressing fear to Cas in 4.16 of this very thing -- that he’s not strong enough to stop Lucifer and the apocalypse. But Cas laid it on Dean implicitly that if he didn’t, Sam would have to, so Dean believes he has to somehow be strong “enough” or his brother will turn into a monster. 

> DEAN
> 
> You don't think I can?
> 
> SAM
> 
> No. You can't. You're not strong enough.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> And who the hell are you?

The next passage highlights an important factor in Sam and Dean’s relationship over the course of seasons 4 and 5.  Dean’s attempt to stop Sam from doing something potentially destructive, with consequences that reach far beyond Sam himself but will at the least permanently destroy Sam’s humanity if not lead to his death, pushes Sam’s buttons from childhood where he felt overprotected and bossed around.

While Sam has legitimate grievances from childhood due to John’s neglect and related parentification of Dean, he’s projecting these issues onto matters of life and death and world-shattering importance in ways that are completely warped but allow him to rationalize what he’s doing as justified because of that past history. He uses this projection of childhood issues in order to dismiss Dean’s valid points and his attempts to prevent horrible consequences.

So when Dean’s approach pushes those buttons in this scene, Sam frames things in terms of Dean being “bossy” as if they’re still children -- which is hugely inappropriate and minimizes the reality of the current situation.  He’ll continue to frame things this way into the following season, as if Dean’s reactions to s4’s blood drinking, lies, and strangulation and s5’s yes to Lucifer plan are merely Dean being bossy and overprotective and controlling, not Dean having legitimate problems with Sam’s actions and plans and the impact those have had on Dean himself, let alone the world.

> SAM
> 
> I'm being practical here. I'm doing what needs to be done.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Yeah? You're not gonna do a single damn thing.
> 
> SAM
> 
> **Stop bossing me around, Dean** . Look.  **My whole life, you take the wheel, you call the shots, and I trust you because you are my brother** . Now I'm asking you,  **for once** , trust me.

This is both entirely keeping with everything I wrote above about Sam feeling looked after and weak as a child because of it, and needing to be strong -- and it’s incredibly skewed, if not outright manipulative. It’s not remotely true of their relationship since they joined back up in season 1. Dean rarely “calls the shots” in this simplified way (in fact, by this definition Sam himself “calls the shots” just as often), and Sam certainly doesn’t always trust Dean’s opinion because he’s Sam’s brother. And the “for once” is especially manipulative -- Dean’s trusted Sam’s opinion on what they should do consistently throughout the series up to this point. 

Sam conflates his desire for Dean’s capitulation and enabling of what Sam wants to do with trust after having lied extensively, and this time layering in a guilt trip and pressing Dean’s family buttons. Ultimately, Sam sees Dean’s objections to his behavior in the current situation -- the lying, the blood drinking, the turning himself into a monster -- as bossing him around. As controlling. As the real betrayal. Anything less than absolute unconditional acceptance of his behavior would be seen as controlling here.

His reasoning behind originally lying to Dean about using his powers at the start of the season was that he knew how Dean would react. He childishly uses this as an excuse for hiding behavior he knows is wrong, because Dean’s objection underlines that knowledge of wrongness and undercuts Sam’s ability to lie to himself about what he’s doing and why. He can’t be upfront about the blood until he’s caught, because then he’d have to own it despite Dean’s objections and his own doubts. And when he is caught, he lashes out with accusations about Dean’s behavior to deflect from and rationalize his own. You can trace this pattern back to their dynamic as children if you know what you’re looking at: Sam resents any hint that Dean is correcting his behavior because Dean’s authority over him as a child was an undermined, parentified one. I’ll write more about this later in the essay.

Of course, Dean’s falling into the trap of family dysfunction by articulating any of this in terms of “letting” Sam do anything, by engaging with the deflection instead of sticking to the wrongness of Sam’s actions. When you try arguing with someone’s rationalizations like this, you fall into the quicksand with them. He was better off in the car in 4.20, refusing to engage with Sam’s “explanations.”

> DEAN
> 
> No. You don't know what you're doing, Sam.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Yes, I do.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Then that's worse.

This is where Dean’s been deluding himself. Hoping that Sam doesn’t understand what the blood is doing to him. He’s been hoping it’s all Ruby’s manipulation. What he doesn’t (or doesn’t want to) understand is that Sam does know, and feels he’s made a rational choice for the higher good to sacrifice his humanity.

Sam also appears to have a disconnect between his choices and the gravity of what he’s doing if he thinks everyone will just go along with his plan because he thinks it’s the only way. This fits with his later minimization of his actions in season 5. Ironically, he expresses more honest clarity about his own behavior while in the midst of his addiction -- to Chuck, to himself, to Ruby -- than he does later in s5 to Dean when he’s sober, when the spin sets in.

> SAM
> 
> Why? Look, I'm telling you—
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Because it's not something that you're doing, it's what you are! It means—
> 
> SAM
> 
> What? No. Say it.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> It means you're a monster.

What Dean is expressing is the fact that Sam is making an informed choice to turn himself into a monster on purpose. If he knows what he’s doing -- drinking human blood -- if he’s doing it intentionally rather than in some kind of haze of need and manipulation from Ruby, he’s already a monster. Drinking blood is what monsters do in this universe. That’s the “it’s what you are” bit means, in my reading. If you’re doing this to yourself on purpose, you’re monstrous.

But Dean confirms Sam’s worst fears about himself here. Given his earlier hallucination of his brother, Sam thinks Dean is saying he’s * _ always been* _ a monster all along, inherently, rather than * _ you’ve become a monster by your actions* _ \-- confirming what his hallucination of Dean said -- which I don’t think is what Dean’s expressing here.

It’s what Sam has said he’s okay with doing to himself if it gets him his goal of killing Lilith, but hearing the judgment from Dean is a slap in the face. Sam wants to do everything a monster does -- drink blood, kill people for that blood -- but not be *called* a monster. He feels like he merits an exception because he’s convinced himself he’s doing it for noble reasons. He’s a self-sacrificial hero, not a blood-drinking monster on a power trip.

Dean was supposed to never find out in the first place. Dean was supposed to understand, was supposed to accept unconditionally, was supposed to see this as okay, heroic even. Dean was supposed to support him. Sam can accept tragically turning himself into a monster for the cause, but if Dean sees that and is not okay with it, that’s another story altogether. Dean’s not supposed to say what Sam has said about himself already (in the form of hallucinations that express his subconscious), because Dean strips it of the cushion of Sam’s rationalizations, of the stories Sam’s told himself about it, of the praise of the hallucination of Mary, the heroism.

There’s a situation set up here where any objections Dean has to anything Sam wants to do is what makes Dean weak and Sam strong. Sam sees Dean as weak for wanting to “protect” Sam from what Sam needs to do. Sam’s strong for resisting that protection. For rebelling against Dean’s “bossy control.” That’s why Mary’s hallucination told Sam not to let Dean get in his way.


	6. Chapter 6

When Dean verbalizes Sam’s fear about himself, Sam punches him, knocking him across the room. 

Sam lashes out physically because Dean’s said something that hurts his feelings. When the situation has been reversed -- when Dean lashes out physically at Sam for something Sam has said -- fandom calls that out. But when it’s even discussed, this scene is most often framed by fandom as a mutual fist fight at best, because Dean fights back. The reason Sam threw the first punch is ignored in favor of implying it was a mutual tussle. Then there’s the framing that Dean started the fight by calling Sam a monster, or that Dean deserves what he gets because of what he’s said. Which isn’t all that far off from where the narrative ends up going, let’s be honest.

They exchange blows, but it’s obvious Sam is easily overpowering Dean and the fight is quickly over. Is it the blood, or has Sam always been capable of physically overpowering Dean? Dean chalks it up to the blood in 5.18, but I think it’s an open question. We’re never actually shown Sam possessing anything like super strength from the blood, just telekinetic power over demons. And Sam is both taller than Dean and at this point in canon likely outweighs him.

Dean falls through a glass table and doesn’t get up. Sam takes a moment, considers things, then crosses the room, straddles Dean, and strangles him. Dean struggles but Sam only relents when he chooses to, after Dean has nearly lost consciousness. It’s a brutal show of power and rage. He’s not out of control, it’s not in the heat of the fight, and it’s certainly not in self defense. There’s a pause, a long beat, before he decides to strangle his brother. This is something he wants to do.

> SAM
> 
> You don't know me. You never did. And you never will.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> You walk out that door, don't you ever come back.

I think Dean’s shown he knows Sam really, really well in this episode, and that’s the part that drives a lot of Sam’s rage. That Dean should be able to find him, that Dean should try to stop him, that Dean should lay out exactly what Ruby’s doing and expose Sam’s justifications and denial, that Dean won’t capitulate to what Sam wants to do (won’t unconditionally support him), that Dean won’t enable him, that Dean should bluntly name what Sam says he’s okay with stripped of the heroic rationalizations, puncturing Sam’s ability to lie to himself about his own actions.

Dean’s approach was not helpful at best and at worse exacerbated the situation, but these are all Sam’s choices and you can’t lay those at Dean’s feet for not handling these (extreme!) events with perfect equanimity. To say that everything would have worked out differently had Dean been patient and not angry is to lay responsibility for Sam’s behavior onto Dean’s head. To agree with Sam’s evaluation in “Fallen Idols” that Dean drove him to Ruby.

Which is exactly what Bobby does in the next episode. It’s a pattern, Dean being made responsible for the behavior of everyone else, for the choices of the other characters -- both by fandom and more troublingly on the show. It started in season 1 with John and it’s well underway before any of this happens. My point is, it’s in 4.22 that the narrative itself explicitly starts to embrace this view of things, and it only gets worse in season 5.

Here’s what I meant earlier about Sam being the most honest about what’s been going on while still in the midst of his downward spiral:

> RUBY
> 
> Look, I know hand-holding really isn’t my thing... but still, Dean was wrong, saying what he said to you.
> 
> SAM
> 
> **No, he was right to say it. I mean, I don't blame him after what I did** .
> 
> RUBY
> 
> Well, after we're done, you guys will patch things up. I mean, you always do.
> 
> SAM
> 
> You're talking like I've got an 'after'.  **I can feel it inside me, Ruby. I've changed... for good. And there's no going back now.**
> 
> RUBY
> 
> Sam --
> 
> SAM
> 
> Look, I know what I gotta do. It's okay, I'm just saying,  **Dean's better off as far away from me as possible** . Anyways. Doesn't matter, let's just get this done with.

Note that Sam now agrees with Dean’s characterization of him as a monster, *because his actions have been monstrous.*

This is the only time in the series Sam refers to the strangulation, and even here it’s an oblique reference. He doesn’t name what happened outright, but the highlighted dialog can only refer to one thing. After the rage passed, in this brief scene Sam has more clarity than he’ll have later, sober, when the rationalizations and minimization start. When the narrative elevates his apocalyptic redemption arc over the work of confronting and atoning specifically what he did to his brother and to their relationship.

It doesn’t do the one he harmed -- Dean -- one lick of good to know that Sam was briefly aware of the gravity of what he did, because as far as is shown on screen, Sam never acknowledges these specifics to Dean himself. One could argue that Sam’s only allowed to have this moment of clarity about what he’s done because of this next scene, where the narrative shows its thumb on the scale.

> BOBBY
> 
> Dean? Dean! You listen to a word I said?
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Yeah, I heard you. I'm not calling him.
> 
> BOBBY
> 
> Don't make me get my gun, boy.

Let’s just keep in mind that a short time ago (the previous night? the same day?) Sam beat Dean into the floor and strangled him. We join Bobby and Dean mid-conversation, where Bobby has been pressuring Dean to call Sam, and Dean has been refusing. And so Bobby threatens Dean with violence. It’s clearly meant as a figure of speech, but the rest of the scene is nothing but emotional violence from Bobby.

> DEAN
> 
> We are damn near kickoff for Armageddon, don't you think we got bigger fish at the moment?
> 
> BOBBY
> 
> I know you're pissed. And I'm not making apologies for what he's done, but he's your--
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Blood? He's my blood, is that what you were gonna say?
> 
> BOBBY
> 
> He's your brother. And he's drowning.

Remember that in his previous scenes, Bobby was all for letting Sam drink blood, because they might use him as a weapon to fight the apocalypse. That maybe they loved Sam “too much” to do the smart thing. Now that Sam has escaped to turn himself into a weapon to fight the Apocalypse on his own, things are suddenly different. Now, after Sam has strangled Dean. Now Bobby’s worried about Sam drowning? See what I meant about Bobby existing to counter whatever Dean says or feels?

This scene completely erases the impact on Dean of being strangled by his brother in favor of what’s good for Sam. Bobby pays lip service to “not making apologies for what he’s done” (this thing he’s done that no one will ever name outright) but then lays on the high pressure manipulation to shame Dean at every turn for Dean’s reaction to * _ being strangled by his brother* _ and how he can’t set that aside to save Sam from himself. He insists Dean should put himself back into harm’s way, because Sam’s drowning. After being perfectly fine with using Sam as a monstrous weapon when Dean objected, suddenly he’s prioritizing Sam’s well being over Dean’s physical and emotional safety. 

Sure, it’s the apocalypse, but that’s not the argument Bobby uses here at all. If it was, Bobby’s emphasis might be on “we” getting Sam back, Bobby might suggest that he give it a try since things went so seriously, dangerously wrong between Dean and Sam, and in Bobby’s judgment, Dean’s inability to set aside his feelings is a problem. If this was strategic this conversation would go a whole different way. If it was purely about saving Sam, it might also go a whole other way -- again, more emphasis on what we are going to do, less emphasis on the entire situation being Dean’s responsibility. 

> DEAN
> 
> Bobby, I tried to help him, I did. Look what happened.
> 
> BOBBY
> 
> So try again.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> It's too late.
> 
> BOBBY
> 
> There's no such thing.

That’s all well and good, if we weren’t talking about a situation where Dean had just been strangled. There’s no such thing as too late? Not even after you’re strangled by someone you love and trust? Just try again, after he strangled you the first time? The characters are talking about two different things here: when Bobby says “no such thing” he means the belief it’s never too late to help Sam. When Dean says “it’s too late” he’s referring to “look what happened when I tried to help him” -- in other words, the strangulation. 

So why is there no *we* in this scene? Why doesn’t Bobby volunteer to make an attempt to reach Sam where Dean wasn’t able to, especially when before Dean caught up to Sam, Bobby had explicitly said “us finding Sam” had to be about reaching him -- then didn’t go along with Dean to make sure that happened? 

Because reaching Sam, stopping Sam, the apocalypse -- none of that is the narrative priority of this scene. 


	7. Chapter 7

The point of this scene with Bobby is driven home over and over again: that Sam’s emotional well-being is the priority. Dean’s not only supposed to get over being strangled, he’s supposed to “be a better man” than his father and transcend/repair the damage John did to Sam. This is about Dean “fixing” his relationship with Sam, because it’s framing Dean as having “failed” in the previous episode when he couldn’t set aside his reaction to Sam’s behavior in order to properly “reach” and “be good to” Sam. Nowhere is Sam held responsible for his behavior or its impact on Dean. And he never will be.

> DEAN
> 
> No, damnit! No. I gotta face the facts. Sam never wanted part of this family. He hated this life growing up. Ran away to Stanford first chance he got. Now it's like déjà vu all over again. Well, I am sick and tired of chasing him. Screw him, he can do what he wants.
> 
> BOBBY
> 
> You don't mean that.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Yes I do, Bobby. Sam's gone. He's gone. I'm not even sure if he's still my brother anymore. If he ever was.

Now, if you set aside the physical violence in the previous episode, Dean’s reaction here * _ might*  _ sound like an overreaction, even irrational and self-pitying. And Bobby calling him on it might seem reasonable. But we can’t set aside the physical violence, because * _ it happened _ .* 

It’s easier for Dean to doubt Sam was every really his brother, that Sam isn’t his brother anymore given what Sam did to him, than confront that Sam, who has always been his brother, chose to strangle him out of rage. He has a similar reaction to Robo!Sam in season 6, insisting that wasn’t Sam. It’s a denial reaction, and it’s related to trauma. Because your brother strangling you is traumatic. 

Let’s keep that in mind as we continue in this scene:

> BOBBY turns and leans on the table, fuming. After a moment he makes a big angry sweep with his hands, tossing books and papers to the ground. He advances on DEAN, who stands.
> 
> BOBBY
> 
> You stupid, stupid son of a bitch! Well, boo hoo, I am so sorry your feelings are hurt, princess! Are you under the impression that family's supposed to make you feel good?! Make you an apple pie, maybe? They're supposed to make you miserable! That's why they're family!

Bobby reduces Dean’s reaction to hurt feelings, like he and Sam just got into a verbal spat and now Dean’s sulking. That’s his entire approach. Family’s supposed to “make you miserable” and I guess that includes strangulation. 

The later revelation of domestic violence in Bobby’s childhood puts this into an in-universe perspective, but the thing to realize is that these scenes play a specific narrative role given the wider context, and there is no counter voice anywhere in the text -- and there never will be -- to this shaming of Dean for having a reaction to trauma, and for wanting to stay as far away from his attacker as possible. For wanting to sever ties.

This little moment does a ton of heavy lifting when it comes to the manipulation the show seeks to accomplish. It flat out signals to the audience that Dean is wrong to have a negative reaction to anything Sam has done, including strangle him. It frames his emotional reaction as exaggerated and oversensitive and instructs him in how he’s supposed to act. A family member can strangle you, but if you reject them for it, that’s the real betrayal.

This next part is key, and without it I might be able to rationalize the writing as showing Bobby as someone who experienced an abusive upbringing perpetuating that world view. But here’s where the narrative shows its hand:

> DEAN
> 
> I told him, "you walk out that door, don't come back" and he walked out anyway! That was his choice!
> 
> BOBBY
> 
> You sound like a whiny brat. No, you sound like your dad. Well, let me tell you something. Your dad was a coward.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> My dad was a lot of things, Bobby, but a coward?
> 
> BOBBY
> 
> He'd rather push Sam away than reach out to him. Well, that don't strike me as brave. You are a better man than your daddy ever was. So you do both of us a favor. Don't be him.

On the surface, the intended reading would be about how Dean shouldn’t repeat his father’s mistake of pushing Sam away rather than reaching out to him, which is flawed enough given the strangulation. But I’m going to argue there’s more going on here.

Maybe all of this is in character in-universe. But why did the writers choose to go this narrative route -- why did they choose to have Dean repeat this iconic line in particular to Sam? Why does the entire thrust of this conversation with Bobby become about, as @nottherealdean pointed out to me, forcing a parallel between Dean and John?

The situations were radically different. John says this line to Sam when Sam was trying to forge his own life by going to college. It was John trying one last time to control Sam, and if he couldn’t, punish him. The power in that situation was John’s, as parent.  And he was reacting to Sam’s defying John’s power and control. It was emotionally abusive of John to do this to Sam.

How is this anything like the beatdown scene, where Dean repeats the line?

Why, after * _ being strangled* _ the last time he saw his brother, is the emphasis of this scene on Dean “reaching out” to Sam instead of “pushing him away”?

It’s only similar if you see the story from Sam’s POV: If you prioritize Sam’s feelings in that scene over Dean’s safety and rationalize everything Sam’s done as justified because of the mission and their old childhood dynamic (Dean being “bossy”) coming to play. If you equate “leaving the family to go to college” with “lying, drinking blood, and strangling your brother when confronted.” If you see Dean through Sam’s eyes as having the power there, as attempting to control and punish Sam, despite the reality of what’s actually happened and the consequences of Sam’s actions. If you conflate Dean of the present with John of the past. If you assume Dean had any power over Sam in that room.

This entire scene with Bobby becomes about how Dean has hurt Sam’s feelings by repeating the phrase John once used, equating that with “pushing Sam away” as a criticism of Dean’s refusal to contact Sam again after Sam strangled him. The narrative insists that Dean should transcend not only what Sam did to him, but also his father’s cowardice, and heal that hurt -- Sam’s hurt -- both the one John inflicted years ago and the hurt Dean inflicted with his words. As if Dean was repeating John’s emotional abuse of Sam.

Is that what went on in 4.21?

Dean only sounds like a brat if you ignore that Sam * _ just strangled him _ .* Dean only sounds like his father if you conflate John and Dean’s situations, if you insist John’s power over Sam is the same as Dean’s position in that hotel room. If you think that Dean calling Sam a monster for literally turning himself into a monster is abusive. If you insist that Dean, who was speaking in reaction to * _ being strangled*  _ when he echoed John’s earlier lines, held the power in that situation. While I’m not doubting Dean’s words hurt Sam’s feelings in that scene… Who had the upper hand in the hotel room when they were spoken? Who really had the power?

It’s remarkable how the narrative chooses to conflate Dean with John in exactly the way Sam has been shown to do in canon, and how this reflects the dynamics of parentification from the non-parentified sibling’s point of view.

The entire point of this narrative choice is to mold the audience perception of what happened in that hotel room by painting Dean as just as abusive as John, therefore bearing ultimate responsibility as the one in the wrong in that scene. The narrative presents this lens as the unbiased truth of this situation, via Bobby, a “neutral” and trusted third party. And this remains the lens through which the narrative views everything that happens, and the dominant frame it presents to the audience with which to understand the characters through season 5 and beyond.

The sickest part of this whole manipulation is that Bobby gives Dean his means of “redeeming” himself for the sin of rejecting Sam and hurting his feelings after Sam strangled him, by insisting Dean is a “better man” than his abusive father. All he has to do is set aside that pesky strangulation, apologize to Sam for not “reaching” him the right way, and make things right.


	8. Chapter 8

Bobby says that John would rather push Sam away than reach out to him, which is entirely true. And it was true that in the start of the scene in the hotel room, Dean was angry and pushing Sam away with his approach. But again -- Dean does not, even at the start of that scene, have the power over Sam that John did. At the start of the scene, Sam and Dean are equals, power-wise. And a conflation of Sam’s desire to go to college with Sam’s drinking blood and lying about it and then strangling his brother when confronted, as if Sam is in the same position in both situations, as if those choices are equivalent and should be treated as such, is at the core of this manipulative scenario.

Given how convinced Sam was that he was the only person who could kill Lilith and that the blood was the only way he was going to be able to accomplish this, I highly doubt had Dean’s approach been perfect in every way he would have convinced Sam of anything. That’s the reality of trying to reason with someone this far into their own rationalizations: there is no “right” way to reach them. Because they don’t want to be reached, the only “right” answer in their eyes is enabling them.

So why is the emphasis on Dean’s supposed responsibility, and not on Sam’s behavior and choices?

By “failing” to approach Sam in the “right” way, the responsibility for Sam’s behavior gets shifted onto Dean. And by the end of the scene? Dean is on the floor and clearly can’t get up, and Sam has just * _ strangled him _ .* But the audience is expected to see Dean as the instigator, as the one doing harm.

I know I'm emphasizing this, but it’s been all but erased from most discussions of Sam and Dean’s relationship after this moment and it’s actively being erased in this very episode by how Bobby is framing things. How Bobby is being written to frame things.

Because when it was just about Dean feeling anger at being lied to, that’s on the level of “set aside your feelings in order to try to reach someone in crisis, intervention style.”

But this?

This is demanding, via layered and repeated shaming, that Dean set aside an attempted murder by his brother in order to “be a better man than his daddy.”

John’s original sin is put on Dean’s head to fix, after Dean’s been strangled.

So again -- why is it up to Dean to reach out to Sam here?

If this whole conversation was about stopping the apocalypse, or even about stopping Sam from becoming a monster, if Bobby didn’t repeatedly shame and berate Dean about it, if Bobby approached things in terms of “we” need to reach Sam, if Bobby realized that Dean was incapable of setting aside his anger and so said he’d give it a try this time, that would be one thing.

But it’s not.

Dean’s expected to reach out to Sam after being strangled. Dean is shamed and chastised for hurt feelings after being strangled. He’s implicitly accused of making a big deal out of nothing, and explicitly accused of having unreasonable expectations of his family…

...not to strangle him.

Super unreasonable, Dean. Expecting not to be strangled by your family. Stop overreacting.

Do the right thing and go after the person who just strangled you, and make things right with him. You’re a coward -- like your dad who abused you both -- if you don’t. Doesn’t matter if Sam has proven capable of physically overpowering and nearly killing you. Doesn’t matter if strangulation is statistically a precursor to murder in a violent relationship. Do it anyway. For his sake.

I believe the show does not intend to put much weight on most examples of punches between the brothers: it’s a device common to the action genre to symbolize anger between men. It’s normalized, in other words, and not viewed as pathological or a sign of abuse -- which isn’t to say the audience should view it in the same way. However, as genre-aware as it is the show knows that taking a physical fight this many steps further crosses a boundary even in the “male action hero” value system.

Attacking someone who is “down” after a “fair” exchange of blows is a transgression in this world, is a sign of going too far, of the “dark side.” Especially if that person is your friend, ally or loved one. And strangling your brother is so far out of the boundaries of “just guys fighting like guys” that it should symbolize crossing a line that can’t be uncrossed. Can’t be easily brushed aside, let alone never mentioned again.

It’s the narrative emphasis on how hurt Sam is by Dean’s words, on how Dean is the one responsible for reconciliation in the aftermath of being strangled, that stands out as contrary to how the genre of “manly action violence” typically operates, where the one who crossed the line of acceptable violence would be the one to apologize and admit they were in the wrong. However, instead of Sam reaching out to and apologizing to Dean, the show gives us the opposite.

Season 5 becomes particularly horrifying if you keep all of this in mind on both a character and meta/narrative level. Because it expends a lot of energy towards making sure you don’t look too closely at what happened to Dean in these episodes. Almost as if the narrative itself immediately went into denial about that strangulation, or as if it doesn’t take that level of physical violence seriously when it happens to Dean. It was just an edgy way to show how angry Sam was, how far he’d gone, but it’s not as serious or damaging to Dean as Dean’s words are to Sam.

Dean never gets to make a choice for himself about any of Bobby’s shaming, because immediately after Bobby’s speech he’s zapped into the Beautiful Room by Zachariah. He does leave Sam a voicemail which Sam never hears, suggesting that he thinks Bobby was right:

> Look, I'll just get right to it. I'm still pissed... and I owe you a serious beatdown.  **But... I shouldn't have said what I said. You know, I'm not Dad.** We're brothers. You know, we're family. And, uh...  **no matter how bad it gets, that doesn't change** .  **Sammy, I'm sorry** .

No matter how bad it gets, they’re family. No matter how bad it gets, he shouldn’t have said anything in anger after being strangled. No matter how bad it gets -- a little strangulation between brothers -- Dean has to be the one to reach out and repair the damage. To be the one to apologize first. To be, in fact, the only one to ever make a specific apology that names what he did.

In the meantime we’re shown Sam and Ruby abducting a possessed nurse who Sam tortures for information on Lilith. Sam’s about to kill her when Ruby tells Sam he’ll need the nurse’s blood for the fight with Lilith. The demon retreats in an attempt to save itself, allowing the nurse’s human consciousness to take control again. While the nurse cries and struggles in terror, Sam stuffs her into the trunk of his car.

> SAM
> 
> God, I wish she would just shut up.
> 
> RUBY
> 
> Well, that can be arranged.
> 
> (off SAM's glare)
> 
> I don't get it. All the demons you cut with the knife -- what do you think happens to the host? How is this any different?
> 
> SAM
> 
> Is that supposed to make me feel better?

Sam is annoyed that the nurse is traumatized. He’s annoyed that her screams don’t let him ignore that there is a person in the demon he plans to murder and drink. This isn’t killing a demon (and its victim) in self defense, in the heat of a fight -- it’s planned. It is in fact different. And he’s looking to feel better about it?

> RUBY
> 
> I know that you're having a tough time here, Sam, but we're in the final lap here. Now is not the time to grow a persqueeter.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Would you drop the friggin' attitude? **I'm about to bleed and drink an innocent woman. While she watches.**
> 
> RUBY
> 
> And save the world as a result.
> 
> SAM
> 
> I don't know. I-I just... **I'm starting to think... maybe Dean was right** .
> 
> RUBY
> 
> About what?
> 
> SAM
> 
> **About everything.**
> 
> RUBY
> 
> We're gonna see this through, right, Sam? Sam?

It only took strangling his brother and being confronted with the reality of the innocent victim he’s planning to murder to get him to consider that maybe Dean’s been right all along. Sam says flat out exactly what he’s going to do to Nurse Cindy, showing that he knows how horrible and wrong it is. Ruby’s putting these options in front of him, but Sam’s the one making the choices. Which is the true meaning of Ruby’s Dumbo line at the end of the episode.

A few miles outside the convent where the fight with Lilith is set to go down, Sam stops the car. While Nurse Cindy’s screams echo from the trunk, Ruby urges Sam to act.

> RUBY
> 
> Sam, it's time. Are we doing this or not?
> 
> SAM
> 
> Give me a minute to think.
> 
> RUBY
> 
> Sam --
> 
> SAM
> 
> Give me a damn minute, Ruby!
> 
> RUBY
> 
> Better think fast.

Sam tried to argue for letting the nurse go and picking up another demon -- one not currently allowing the possessed person to show on the surface -- but Ruby told him there wasn’t time. Sam’s hesitations aren’t because he’ll be draining a human of her blood, but because this particular human will be *visible to him* as a victim -- as the *person* rather than the demon possessing her -- when he does it. This is what makes him squeamish -- he was perfectly fine with killing her back when the demon was in control and he couldn’t see the terror of the possessed woman. 

Sam only started to take Dean’s attempt to reach him in the hotel room seriously after he was confronted with the reality of draining the conscious, terrified, screaming woman in his trunk. The idea that maybe it’s what he’s *doing* that is making him monstrous rather than what he is inherently, and that he can stop here before it goes any further, has tentatively taken hold, but that idea is a fragile one. Dean is no longer present to strengthen Sam’s doubts and Ruby is in his face, urging him on. His moral compass is swinging wildly from the idea that Dean might be right about everything to telling him he has to become a monster in order to save the world. So how does he decide?

Sam finally listens to the voicemail from Dean he’s been avoiding. But it’s not the message the audience heard Dean send, the apology:

> DEAN'S VOICE
> 
> Listen to me, you bloodsucking freak. Dad always said I'd either have to save you or kill you. Well, I'm giving you fair warning. **I'm done trying to save you.** **You're a monster, Sam -- a vampire. You're not you anymore. And there's no going back.**

In an echo of his hallucination from the panic room, Sam hears Dean confirm all of his worst fears about himself. And though he still could make the decision to turn back, hearing what he thinks is Dean saying that it’s too late, that he’s already a monster, that there’s “no going back,” apparently pushes him over the line. He believes it’s too late now, if his brother thinks this about him. 

His own moral compass is so fractured at this point that it can’t hold up under these angry words from Dean -- including an emphasis on the idea that Dean will no longer try to save him, which is something he’s held onto since season 2 to fight his own sense that he has a monstrous destiny. Contrary to his assertion to Dean in the hotel room that Dean doesn’t know him, down deep he judges himself by his perception of how Dean sees him. And this leads him to his decision: to go ahead and complete the transformation into full monsterhood by draining Nurse Cindy.

> SAM
> 
> Do it.
> 
> RUBY
> 
> Thank god.

It’s meant to be tragic, this moment where the nurse screams in terror. If only Sam had heard Dean’s real voicemail, the one where Dean apologizes to him and takes back calling him a monster, Sam would have made a different decision.

But what this dramatic moment does is once again frame Sam’s choices as something he has little agency over himself, as something that are solely dependent on Dean’s actions. While it’s clear to the audience that the real Dean did not say these things, Sam doesn’t know that, and so this scene still perpetuates this twisted idea that Sam’s actions are ultimately Dean’s responsibility. At the very least, it illustrates how Sam sees things this way, and we’ll get a repetition of this in season 5’s “Fallen Idols.”

The idea that Sam is incapable of doing the right thing without Dean’s support -- that without Dean, Sam is monstrous -- is repeated throughout the series and tends to be paired with his willingness to sacrifice innocents to achieve his goals. This will be subtextually revisited in season 5, when it’s implied that in the future of “The End,” Sam said yes to Lucifer because Dean wasn’t there to stop him, because of Dean’s abandonment. Here, Sam also thinks Dean has abandoned him -- shifting from trying to save him to giving him “fair warning” that Dean will hunt him because he’s a monster.

What really matters to Sam in this moment is how Dean sees him, not the right thing to do. If Dean says there’s no going back, it must be true. And so in his abandonment, all Sam can do is fulfill his monstrous destiny. At the cost of Nurse Cindy, who will never be mentioned again.

Back in the Beautiful Room, Zachariah tells Dean that the plan was never to stop Sam in the first place, that the angels want the seals to open. That killing Lilith is the last seal. Now if Dean had any remaining hesitations about being put into the position to reach out to his brother, they’re snuffed out by the imperative of stopping the apocalypse from happening. This tactic is repeated in season 5 in The End. If Dean tries to leave or set boundaries, he’s pulled back in by catastrophic circumstance. In both 4.22 and in The End, this happens directly after Dean expresses the possibility of separating himself from Sam, almost as if Dean’s very attempt triggers the crisis that prevents him from following through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Thanks to @dissolvingworlds and @juppschmitz for discussion of the scenes where Ruby and Sam discuss killing Nurse Cindy, they greatly informed my writing)


	9. Chapter 9

At the start of season 5 we rejoin Sam and Dean exactly where we left them at the end of season 4: that is, no time at all has passed for the characters. For the fandom at the time of airing, however, several months had passed between seasons, and I believe this contributes to how the characters are viewed as well as how the narrative is shaped and why the writers can pull off the manipulation the way they do, right from the start. 

A situation is created where very little time in-universe -- a matter of hours and days -- has passed since Dean found out his brother was drinking blood, extensively lying to him, and the fight that ended with Sam strangling him; but for the audience and I’d argue in the expectations the narrative ends up placing on Dean and his reactions, much more time has passed.

What’s demanded of Dean is an accelerated “get over it” mindset where first, a vital part of what happened to him is never mentioned again or is minimized using euphemistic phrases. Everything that went down (extensive lying, strangulation) is referred to as “you chose a demon over your brother” and this will be the case -- with one oblique exception in 5.18 -- for the rest of the series. It begins to sound like Dean’s grievance is a petty, jealous snit rather than a reaction to some pretty heavy shit including potentially lethal assault.

Dean gets cast as being difficult and unfair and fucking up the relationship between he and Sam, instead of getting over this petty grudge he’s carrying, forgiving and forgetting, moving on, accepting Sam’s apologies for the good of the brotherhood and the world. When you really start looking at it, the entire season is one big mindfuck. Which I’m going to try to do in depth here, breaking down the places where Sam and the narrative are both being manipulative in order to deflect from Sam’s actions and reframe the problem as Dean.

In season 5 I’d argue Sam doesn’t show much understanding of the severity of what he’s done, especially the damage his actions have inflicted on his relationship with Dean. He pays lip service to the notion that he’s done something seriously wrong but when it comes to Dean, over and over he shows that while he might say he gets what he did was wrong, his behavior exhibits otherwise. His spoken and unspoken expectations are now that he’s said he’s sorry, everyone (Dean) will just move on now and act like nothing happened.

All of this would be fine and in character if it wasn’t a part of the overall narrative manipulation that drives the season. This manipulation isn’t only about salvaging a character that TPTB were afraid they pushed too far into unsympathetic territory in s4, though I think much of it is about that. At the core, I think Kripke truly believes in “choosing family” above all, no matter what. No matter what they do to you. This is the core of dysfunctional and abusive family dynamics. Therefore Dean is the problem at the end of season 4, because he’s refusing to “choose family,” which translates here to prioritizing the “drowning” family member over his own well being.

If a family member lies to, betrays, even physically assaults you, it’s your job to keep choosing them (to preserve The Family) over yourself. If you’re Dean, anyway. Therefore despite everything Sam did in season 4, the real culprit becomes Dean, which explains Bobby’s “boo hoo princess” rant as well as the entirety of season 5. It’s why the real “problem” of season 5 isn’t Sam and what he did (and what he did to Dean) but Dean, who, as Kripke himself suggested, needs to “learn to love” Sam and “let him grow up.” Because that was his failure in season 4, and that failure was the real betrayal.

“They chose family” wasn’t just one of Chuck’s sappy lines in 5.22, it explains everything about the season in a nutshell. Because the core problem in season 4 wasn’t Sam’s choices and actions, but Dean’s reactions to those choices and actions, because Dean didn’t unconditionally support Sam in Sam’s time of need. Therefore season 5 ultimately ends by repeating major aspects of the end of season 4: complete with murder of demon vessels, drinking blood, and Dean being brutally beaten at Sam’s hands. In fact all of these elements are dialed to 11: multiple vessels are murdered for their blood, rather than one; Sam drinks literal gallons of blood; Dean isn’t merely strangled after losing a fist fight but beaten nearly unrecognizable. But this time the consumption of blood is framed as a necessary evil, Dean agrees with (enables) Sam’s plan and is there for his brother “unconditionally” no matter what, and Sam’s unilateral actions are praised as self-sacrificially saving the world.


	10. Chapter 10

Starting with the season 5 premiere, the show initiates a campaign to deflect attention away from the dark place it took Sam at the end of season 4 in order to as quickly as possible restore him to sympathetic hero status. Nearly every element of the narrative is used to do so, attempting to wrap things up in the first five episodes.

One of the primary ways it accomplishes this is through the “we both fucked up we’re both equally responsible” narrative. This seeks to put Dean and Sam on the same footing and convince the audience that while Sam might have fucked up, Dean’s reactions in the aftermath are unreasonable and the real problem to be solved, and besides it was Dean’s behavior in the first place that drove Sam’s actions. This latter point was already established in the scenes with Bobby in 4.21-4.22, as discussed, and will become the core of “Fallen Idols.”

The angry things Dean said to Sam were given more weight than the extreme actions that prompted those remarks, then made the primary sin to be corrected. This deflection from Sam’s actions and the impact Sam’s behavior had on Dean and their relationship onto how Dean handled what happened becomes a pattern for the next several episodes, and the thesis statement Kripke signaled was the primary theme of the season: that Dean needs to learn to love Sam and let him grow up.

Think about that, as the driver of the season that was on the surface to serve as the “redemption” of one brother after strangling the other: that the primary lesson to be learned was for the one strangled to love his attacker better.

This all makes sense when you realize that Kripke meant every word he had Bobby say in 4.22. Family is supposed to hurt. Literally.

The “we both fucked up” narrative is first suggested by Zachariah:

> ZACHARIAH
> 
> **You had a chance to stop your brother, and you couldn't. So let's not quibble over who started what. Let's just say it was—all our faults and move on.** 'Cause like it or not—it's Apocalypse Now.

You could argue that as an antagonist, Zachariah shouldn’t be interpreted as saying anything unbiased about the situation. In-text, his manipulative blame shifting fits the fact that he was key to orchestrating the apocalypse. I might accept that if this line wasn’t echoed through the episodes to follow and didn’t become the obvious interpretation of events the narrative is pushing on the audience.

“Let’s say it’s all our faults and move on” is a major way the narrative resists taking responsibility for what it did in season 4. TPTB set up these situations only to duck out of accepting the full consequences, and this is reflected in how season 5 plays out, especially with regards to Sam’s characterization and the interpersonal relationships. While there is always something to be said for dissecting the different ways all the characters’ actions might have influenced and contributed to a situation, it’s vital to avoid false equivalencies when doing so. Instead, omission and false equivalency become this season’s primary tactics.

How boring it would be to honestly and fairly parse responsibility for harm; instead let’s say everyone’s equally to blame, wipe the slate clean, and move on. As tempting as this stance is after events (and relationships) go horrifically wrong, the problem with “let’s move on” is that it doesn’t resolve anything. And we see the results reverberate much later in the series, both for the characters themselves and for the quality of the show. While I love many things about post-s5 SPN, especially season 6, I think the show never recovered and the problems created by this avoidance of its own narrative fallout have grown exponentially ever since.

Contributing to the “shared fault” theme, in a later scene a demon-possessed Bobby shifts more responsibility for Sam’s actions onto Dean -- for not killing Sam earlier, for not stopping him before he killed Lilith:

> BOBBY
> 
> What John said—you save Sam or kill him. Maybe...
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Maybe what?
> 
> BOBBY
> 
> **Maybe we shouldn't have tried so hard to save him.** He ended the world, Dean. And **you and I weren't strong enough to stop him proper. That's on us.** I'm just saying, your dad was right.

If Cas hadn’t interfered to let Sam out of the panic room, they indeed would have been able to stop him -- in fact they already had stopped him. Notice the repetition of the strong/weak dichotomy when it comes to Sam. In Sam’s hallucination of Mary, Dean was weak for trying to stop Sam; here demon!Bobby says they weren’t strong enough to successfully stop him.

Again, if not for the overwhelming thrust of the overall narrative to sell this line as truth, I wouldn’t take this as anything but a demon trying to get at Dean and drive more of a wedge between him and Sam. But it echoes the party line too strongly for that. And there is never a counter to this narrative in the text, not even from Dean himself, a vital omission.

The reason this line exists, despite the audience having explicitly seen Cas’s actions thwart Dean’s success at stopping Sam, is that the narrative views Dean as having failed to stop Sam in the later confrontation in the hotel, when he failed to “reach” Sam. He wasn’t “good” to Sam, therefore he drove Sam to Ruby. This will be the ultimate conclusion “Fallen Idols” asks the audience to swallow.

5.02, “Good God Y’all” continues the patterns of narrative manipulation. But this time the blame shifting is coming from an ally, not a demon or an enemy angel:

> CASTIEL
> 
> With God's help, we can win.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> It's a pipe dream, Cas.
> 
> CASTIEL
> 
> I killed two angels this week. My brothers. I'm hunted. I rebelled. **And I did it, all of it, for you, and you failed. You and your brother destroyed the world— and I lost everything, for nothing**. So keep your opinions to yourself.

Cas, reacting to Dean doubting his plan to find God to help them stop Lucifer, throws out this extremely manipulative response. It works on several levels and needs to be dissected to understand fully. In order to do that, let’s revisit the context of what Cas is talking about here when he talks about how he rebelled and that he did it for Dean.

First, Cas never admits to Dean that he was the one who unlocked the door to the panic room so that Sam could continue his quest to kill Lilith. In fact, this is conveniently never mentioned by the narrative again. So it’s not just Cas blame shifting via ignoring his own role, it’s also the show making sure that goes unquestioned and unremembered via intentional omission.

While he was under the coercive control of the angels, Cas directly contributed to Sam killing Lilith and to Lucifer’s escape, and could have admitted that instead of shifting all of the blame onto Dean. He could have framed it in terms of “this is what heaven pushed to make sure happened,” he could have blamed Zachariah and the angelic hierarchy who tortured him into compliance and orchestrated the whole thing, but instead he omits Heaven’s role entirely, makes sure Dean and Sam are the only culprits, and puts the brothers on equal footing.

Admitting his role to Dean would require that Cas have questioned his core beliefs upon rebellion. Instead, he transferred his loyalty from heaven to Dean, at least briefly. This allows him to blame Dean when things don’t work out instead of facing his own role in why they didn’t. Shame at his own unquestioning faith in heaven’s righteousness and participation in its plans, as well as not rebelling sooner, may also play a role in his blame shifting.

Here’s the relevant scene in 4.22 in the beautiful room, the context of Cas’s choice to rebel:

> DEAN
> 
> What are you gonna do to Sam?
> 
> CASTIEL
> 
> Nothing. He's gonna do it to himself.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> What's that supposed to mean? Oh, right, right. Got to toe the company line. Why are you here, Cas?
> 
> CASTIEL
> 
> We've been through much together, you and I. And I just wanted to say, I'm sorry it ended like this.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> "Sorry"? It's Armageddon, Cas. You need a bigger word than "sorry."
> 
> CASTIEL
> 
> **Try to understand -- this is long foretold. This is your...**
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Destiny? Don't give me that "holy" crap. Destiny, God's plan... It's all a bunch of lies, you poor, stupid son of a bitch! It's just a way for your bosses to keep me and keep you in line! **You know what's real? People, families -- that's real.** And you're gonna watch them all burn?
> 
> CASTIEL
> 
> What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here. I see inside you. I see your guilt, your anger, confusion. In paradise, all is forgiven. You'll be at peace. Even with Sam.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> This is simple, Cas! No more crap about being a good soldier. **There is a right and there is a wrong here, and you know it.**

Cas (in 5.02 and again later in 5.18) insists that he rebelled “for Dean” but that isn’t what Dean asked of him. Dean asked him to do the right thing. To stop being the “good soldier,” to stop following orders and instead start questioning them, their consequences and what they really mean. Dean asked Cas to help him, yes, but what he was asking Cas to do was save the world -- Dean emphasized the regular people who were going to burn. Dean asked Cas to throw his loyalty behind humankind, not Dean personally.

> CASTIEL
> 
> I do that, we will all be hunted. We'll all be killed.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> **If there is anything worth dying for... this is it.**

Cas names the consequences of rebellion: that they will all be hunted and killed for interfering with heaven’s plans. And Dean emphasizes that *that saving the world is worth the risk.* Cas shows here that he was fully aware of the consequences of his choice to rebel. That he rebelled knowing what could happen.

So let’s go back to his lines to Dean in 5.02:

> I killed two angels this week. My brothers. I'm hunted. I rebelled. And I did it, all of it, for you, and you failed. You and your brother destroyed the world— and I lost everything, for nothing. So keep your opinions to yourself.

Cas directly blames Dean for the result of his own actions, for “failing” to do something Cas himself prevented Dean from doing when Cas let Sam out of the panic room. He blames the fact that he had to kill two of his brothers on Dean, not on his own choice to rebel. He blames the fact that he’s hunted on Dean, not on his choice to rebel. He says he rebelled “for Dean.” Which as I’ve pointed out, was not what Dean asked of him at all.

Assuming they were going to win and stop Lucifer’s release allowed Cas to believe his rebellion would be “worth it.” That he wasn’t “losing everything, for nothing.” He appears to have believed that he was entitled to escape any negative consequences to his rebellion despite having named them before he made his choice. Dean was arguing that rebelling against heaven’s plan for the apocalypse was worth dying for * _because it was the right thing to do_ * not because they were guaranteed success. Even without Cas’s direct contribution to the “failure” it would be rich of him to put things this way, but with it? This statement is a piece of manipulative beauty.

Ultimately, Cas blames Dean for convincing him to rebel against the (contingent on obedience) safety of cooperation with heaven, therefore any consequences to that rebellion are Dean’s fault. This allows Cas to blame Dean for the fact that Cas is hunted and had to kill his brothers to survive, because Cas blames Dean for failing to stop Lucifer’s release, which he saw as the tradeoff for his assistance.

For a third time in two episodes, the fact that Dean *had* stopped Sam until Cas released him is omitted by the narrative in order to put the blame on Dean for not “reaching” Sam in the hotel room.

It’s understandable when you look in-universe at Cas’s character and patterns of his behavior over the series that he would shift blame for all of this onto Dean. My question then becomes: why does the narrative allow that to go unchallenged? To stand as if fact?

Because it contributes to the general blame shifting that started in season 4 and has become the running theme of the first five episodes of season 5. It works to reinforce the idea that “starting the apocalypse” was something Dean shares blame for equally with Sam.

Not for being (or breaking) the first seal; the narrative places little emphasis on that point, and even then it’s almost an afterthought.  Instead the main tactic is to emphasize Dean’s “failure” in his family role. Therefore “failing to reach Sam when he was drowning” in 4.21-22 becomes “not stopping your brother” in 5.01 becomes “you and your brother destroyed the world” in 5.02 becomes “I went to Ruby to get away from you” in “Fallen Idols.” **Dean’s “failure” in his family role is emphasized over anything he might have done in hell, because repairing how he “failed” Sam in season 4 is framed as his redemption by “Swan Song,” when he “chooses family.”**

These examples of blame shifting work in a vacuum as in-character responses for each individual. But cumulatively and paired with specific omissions, the purpose of the repetition becomes clear. If the blame-shifting was meant only to be a reflection of characterization, and not to serve a manipulative narrative purpose, there would have been a counter allowed to put it in perspective. Contrast s5 with what Ben Edlund does in several scenes between Cas and Dean in season 6, where Dean rejects Cas’s manipulation for what it is. There’s nothing similar in season 5. Dean remains silent in the face of these statements, when he’s not echoing them. And so do all the other characters.

 **Because this is about the message the audience is meant to take away.** Despite having done everything to try to prevent what happened and being repeatedly thwarted, Dean is held co-responsible for everyone else’s actions because that’s what the narrative wants.


	11. Chapter 11

At the beginning of 5.01, the brothers are whisked away from Lucifer’s reach by forces unknown and plunked down on a commercial flight that immediately appears to start to crash, and next we see them driving in a car at night, where Sam’s first reaction is to attempt to start a conversation about what’s just happened and Dean’s first reaction is to shut down this conversation:

 

> SAM
> 
> Dean, look—
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Don't say anything. It's okay. We just got to keep our heads down and hash this out, all right?
> 
> SAM
> 
> Yeah, okay.

Let’s look at these reactions in more detail, because I’d like to question some accepted wisdom: I want to dissect the idea that the best thing to do when an interpersonal crisis has occurred is immediately talk it over. This is what a lot of fandom appears to believe represents good communication and how a healthy relationship should function.

I’ve posted about this before: Sam trying to push a conversation about feelings onto Dean is seen by much of fandom as the right, positive, healthy, mature thing to do and any resistance from Dean is seen as immature, emotionally stunted, unhealthy, etc. Resistance to this kind of conversation _can_ be unhealthy. But what gets lost in most of these discussions is that people have the right to their own emotional timing and boundaries. People have the right to choose when and where and *with whom* they have this kind of conversation. No matter what you think about Dean’s emotional health and whether he should confide in Sam in any given situation, he has the right not to.

The other point is that Sam tends to initiate these conversations in order to reassure himself, rather than for Dean’s benefit. He usually has a very specific idea in mind of what feelings Dean should be expressing about the matter at hand and how Dean should be expressing them. It’s often controlling behavior rather than healthy communication.

Keeping in mind that this scene occurs at most hours after the events of “Lucifer Rising” and a day after Sam strangled Dean, what I really want to get at is that I believe that immediately talking out the kind of relational crisis we’re looking at post-s4 is a terrible idea.

When you get past the surface and the often unconscious “rules” about how the apology/forgiveness equation is supposed to go (if apology, then forgiveness), most of Sam’s behavior shows the opposite of understanding a need to be accountable to those he harmed, including Dean. Sam initiating this conversation immediately after the events of 4.22 signals that he hasn’t had the time to reflect on what’s happened to the extent it would take in order to truly apologize, understand and acknowledge the harm done, and suggest how he intends to change in order to prevent repeating that harm. And all of this is proven out by what ends up happening.

Sam’s reactions over the course of 5.01 and 5.02 suggest to me that he expected a certain kind of conversation about what happened, and not an honest one that centered the person he harmed. I’ll look at these instances in more detail as we come across them, but in general he seeks to confess, be forgiven (absolved), and move forward on his terms. That’s how it's supposed to work. When Dean doesn’t cooperate, Dean becomes a problem.

Sam doesn’t approach Dean from the standpoint of what’s best for the person he harmed -- Dean isn’t approached as if he’s been harmed at all -- but from the standpoint of Sam’s own need to resolve matters so he can stop feeling the guilt and shame the consequences of his actions has generated. Much of this is based on his fears about how Dean is now perceiving him. This causes him to push Dean into a conversation, so he can find out what Dean is thinking, if Dean is judging him, if Dean will reject him after what he did.

First, he tries to repeatedly push a conversation Dean’s clearly not ready to have. Then when Dean does begin to express his feelings about what happened and persists in showing signs of being traumatized such as distrust, hypervigilance, and a need for control, Sam reacts with impatience, contempt, and even violent hostility.  Ultimately Sam ends up insisting on a premature return to “equal partnership,” signalling it’s time for Dean to cease having any reaction to what happened, hesitations about Sam himself, or input into necessary changes to their relationship in the aftermath. Sam ties everything up by pushing responsibility for his actions onto Dean. Dean capitulates to the manipulation and pressure. And then they move on. That’s the map the first five episodes of the season set out for the audience.

Back to 5.01: They’re in the middle of a crisis situation, they have no idea how they got where they are or what is happening, so on the surface level, strategically keeping their heads down seems like a good call for Dean to make. Mid-crisis isn’t the best time for an emotional discussion of the past year.

In addition, Dean also hasn’t had the time or space to even begin to process anything that’s happened. An honest discussion of everything that occurred would require * _at minimum*_ a sense of basic safety, which they don’t have here yet, and that’s not even considering whether Dean feels safe * _from Sam_.*

**To put events into perspective, Sam insisting on this conversation is the perpetrator of violent assault expecting his victim to talk it out with him shortly after the assault.**

Ideally such a conversation wouldn’t happen until Dean had had space away from Sam and time to figure out what he felt about what happened, as well as whether he even *wants* reconciliation with Sam. But we’re operating within the restraints of SPN, where the kind of separation, time and distance that ideally both characters would need is not allowed to be an option. Therefore most of this discussion is going to be specific to understanding the confines of the show as written.

However, it can’t be ignored that the show is structured this way specifically by TPTB, who could choose a different path. That they don’t and in fact use several tactics to ensure this can’t happen becomes an important element in my larger argument about the narrative’s manipulation. The briefness of the separation between Sam and Dean in 5.03, the way they’re forced back together, the framing of many of the conversations between them about what happened, are all features, not bugs. On one level these tactics exist to serve the needs of the fandom to avoid a separation; on another level, as we’ll see in “The End” and “Fallen Idols,” it serves the manipulative needs of the narrative by framing the terms of a reconciliation as Dean making realizations, putting it on Dean to change his approach to Sam, rather than anything mutual or Sam’s responsibility.

Back to the in-universe analysis of 5.01: often when you’re still in the middle of the situation, you don’t have a good sense of what’s happening, let alone your opinion about it or a good grasp on how you feel about it all. When you’re in the middle of a crisis, emotionally you tend to repress or go numb in order to survive and it doesn’t accomplish anything to try to discuss serious issues while in that state. And Dean’s deflection here -- keep our heads down and hash this out -- reflects that state to me.

Another layer here -- the one that has Dean telling Sam “it’s okay” when it’s clearly not, could be what happened the last time they were together pre-”Lucifer Rising,” the last time they tried to talk out what was happening and it got emotional, Sam strangled Dean. Given what happens when Dean dares to imply he has doubts about Sam around demon blood in the next episode -- Sam shoves him into a wall -- I don’t think this is reading too much into the text to suggest Dean might be avoiding a conversation about everything that’s happened out of fear for his own safety, even if only unconsciously.

One last possible influence on Dean is what happened when he tried to talk to Bobby about his feelings less than 24 hours earlier.

So Dean’s avoidance of a conversation here is probably not just a) about pragmatic strategy or b) about Dean being avoidant because he’s not ready given everything that’s happened or -- as fandom would have you believe -- c) congenitally incapable; but possibly because of trauma and a very real concern for his safety.

Avoidance and keeping the peace and glossing over with “it’s ok, let’s keep our heads down” could be seen as a survival strategy. This is the interpretation that comes to mind when you take that strangulation seriously as something traumatic that happened to Dean, when you take season 5 in the context of the end of season 4. Dean’s behavior starts making a whole lot of sense, and the show’s insistent framing of some things starts to become more and more disturbing.

Another thing to keep in mind when it comes to Dean’s initial shutdown of conversation in the car occurs during this scene:

 

> DEAN
> 
> **How you doing? Are you jonesing for another hit of bitch blood or what?**
> 
> SAM
> 
> I-it's weird. Uh, tell you the truth, I'm fine. No shakes, no fever. **It's like whoever...put me on that plane cleaned me right up.**

Dean didn’t know until this moment that Sam wasn’t still super-powered on blood. He wasn’t present when Sam discovered he’d burnt out his powers killing Lucifer, he walked in just as that happened and killed Ruby. So under the interpretation that Dean’s reluctance to talk might be due at least in part to the trauma of being strangled, it would make sense that he’d want to avoid any contentious subjects while he thought Sam was still under the influence of demon blood.

The other aspect of this event is it’s an obvious cop out on the show’s part, curing Sam of his blood addiction without the withdrawal and recovery process. Magic, he’s cured. The subject briefly recurs in the next couple of episodes, but carries a completely different impact than if Sam had to deal with things as they stood at the end of season 4. Sam is narratively rescued from having to deal with what would have been the worst effects on himself, the “permanent changes” that were supposedly a consequence of his actions. Everyone else is not so lucky.

While this short cut might make some sense given the action oriented nature of the show and alone isn’t enough to bother me given how the subject does recur in the next two episodes, it tends to serve the overall theme of glossing over just how far they took Sam as a character in season 4 when seen alongside the other elements present in the narrative. It also serves the real theme of season 5: that the “problem” is Dean and how he relates to Sam.


	12. Chapter 12

After the discussion of the “supernatural methadone” that wiped him clean of his blood addiction, Sam makes another attempt to start a conversation about what happened. Dean reacts with “it’s okay” again -- and again, I can’t help but see this in light of a need to avoid the kind of emotional confrontation that ended with him strangled the last time.

 

> DEAN
> 
> It's okay. You don't have to say anything.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Well, that's good. **Because what can I even say? "I'm sorry"? "I screwed up"? Doesn't really do it justice, you know? Look, there's nothing I can do or say that will ever make this right—**

Though on the surface what Sam says seems genuinely remorseful, it follows some generally accepted yet deeply flawed patterns around apologies. And how he handles the fact that Dean doesn’t instantly forgive and forget makes that remorse look insincere to me.

They’re dealing with the results of the Apocalypse, so that gets the most attention, but the wreckage of Sam’s relationship with Dean ends up collateral damage.

In another situation what Sam says might be the beginning of a deeper conversation where he takes full responsibility for his actions and allows Dean to express how Sam’s actions have impacted him. But beyond the fact that Sam disregards Dean’s boundaries by repeatedly trying to force a conversation Dean is not ready for, these statements only *sound* like taking responsibility. They’re really not. They’re very manipulative.

They sound full of remorse, but what they’re doing (and this is another point @nottherealdean made to me) is preemptively co-opting anything the person harmed would have to say about what happened, how they were harmed, and how they feel about it. This tactic is one Sam repeats twice more, in “Free to Be You and Me” and “Fallen Idols.”

We have to look at what Sam’s words are actually doing and how that reflects how he’s reacting to what he’s done. Do his words center Dean as the one harmed, or do they provide an outlet for Sam’s discomfort?

 **“What can I even say?”** = “There’s no way I’m going to admit to the concrete reality of what I’ve done and accept the consequences of how you feel about it. So I’m not going to name what happened between us outright. I’m not going to admit to lying to you and strangling you. I’m going to handwave vaguely and act helpless about what to do.” (note: Sam most likely feels genuinely helpless about what to do about his own actions. That doesn’t change the purpose this speech is serving.)

 **“I’m sorry, I screwed up? Doesn’t really do it justice”** = “I acknowledge that what I did was so severe that a simple apology is insufficient. However…”

 **“There’s nothing I can do or say that will ever make this right”** = “I’m not even going to do that much, but I want to feel like I’m trying, while avoiding accepting the consequences my actions have had on our relationship, which might involve facing your anger and hurt and the possibility that you will leave me because of what I’ve done to you.”

What exactly is the logical conclusion of Sam’s statement? What response does it leave open for Dean to make besides “yes, there’s nothing you can do, so let’s just move on?” There’s nowhere to go with a statement like that. It’s a dead end street, and it's designed to be one. He doesn’t even say whether he’s referring specifically to his personal relationship with Dean here or the larger world-impacting events. This sets up Sam’s pattern of avoiding specifics that we will see play out further in this essay.

As a statement this early in the process -- again, it’s only been about a day since Sam * _strangled*_ Dean -- this is a full fledged attempt to get out of facing what he’s done. If he was sincere about his remorse and desired to make amends for his actions, if he’d faced the seriousness of what he did * _to Dean_ ,* not just his contribution to starting the apocalypse --  at the very least, he’d be able to name out loud specifically what he’s (not quite) attempting to apologize for. And he would know that Dean might need time and space, and he’d accept that Dean might not want to talk to him about it immediately. Might not * _feel safe*_ talking to him immediately.

Contrary to fandom belief, that is Dean’s right. Possible traumatic reaction aside, crisis aside, concern about his safety should he say something Sam doesn’t like again aside, Dean has the right not to talk to Sam about happened right away. He gets to have boundaries. Dean has the right to take his time and talk about it when he feels ready. Dean’s way of handling this -- saying it’s ok and that they don’t have to talk about it -- could be confusing to Sam. A clearer way of communicating would be to acknowledge Sam’s efforts to talk and express that he’s not ready to discuss it. But that’s expecting a lot in the aftermath of getting strangled by your brother.

My bet is Dean himself is pretty emotionally confused at this point, and this is his way of handling that. Because newsflash, you don’t work through this severe of trauma and betrayal in a matter of hours or days, especially, again, when you are still in the middle of the situation with the person who harmed you.

If Sam had sat down and fully absorbed the seriousness of his own actions and how they’d impacted Dean instead of * _saying*_ they were serious but * _acting*_ as if it was a simple disagreement, he’d give Dean that space instead of attempting to repeatedly force the conversation right away. Literally right away -- in the car after they’re zapped onto the plane from the church where Lucifer was freed.

Sam does this because Sam feels an overwhelming need to feel better about what he did.

It’s not about repairing the harm he’s done to Dean or repairing the relationship or taking responsibility for his actions, but about immediately absolving himself of his own guilt and shame. It’s about Sam’s feelings, not Dean’s. Sam is uncomfortable, therefore wants to force the conversation before either of them are ready. Dean’s made his feelings very clear: he doesn’t want to talk. But Sam can’t respect that, because Sam’s need to feel better overrides Dean’s right to space.

It’s hard not to remember that the last time Dean tried to express how he felt about what Sam had done, Bobby lashed out at him and shamed him and made the whole thing about Sam’s feelings and saving Sam from himself, about how there were more important things than Dean’s hurt feelings, how expressing how he felt made him whiny, and a desire to separate from his brother made him a coward.

So that might also have something to do with Dean’s reaction here, his aversion to talking it out with Sam.

> DEAN
> 
> **So why do you keep bringing it up?!**
> 
> SAM sighs. DEAN turns back to him.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Look, all I'm saying is, why do we have to put this under a microscope? **We made a mess. We clean it up.** That's it.

Sam’s long-suffering sigh here particularly stands out. In light of how I’ve broken down Sam’s statements, Dean’s angry reaction -- * _so why do you keep bringing it up*_ and the quick attempt to gloss things over again with his next statement, make a lot of sense. It’s the confused anger of someone whose boundaries are being trampled, who is being manipulated with something that *sounds* like an apology but somehow isn’t, in ways they can’t articulate. And now, suddenly, he’s adopting the same line Zachariah tried to sell -- that this is a mutual fuckup. * _We*_ made a mess.

Why wouldn’t he believe this, at this point? Bobby made it very clear that Sam was his responsibility; therefore since he “failed” at reaching Sam, the consequences of Sam’s actions are his fault. Zachariah and Cas blame him as well. Later Sam will place further responsibility for his own actions onto Dean’s head in “Fallen Idols.” And Dean will, again, accept them. Accept being just as responsible for everything that’s happened as Sam despite the fact that he was the only one actually trying to stop it.

It’s all part of a larger, older, deeply ingrained dynamic that goes back to their childhood. John was still holding Dean responsible for Sam’s choices when they were adults, in the first season, after all.


	13. Chapter 13

Later in the episode Sam makes another attempt to apologize, this time to Bobby: 

> SAM
> 
> Bobby, this is all my fault. I'm sorry.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Sam...
> 
> SAM
> 
> Lilith did not break the final seal. Lilith was the final seal.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Sam, stop it.
> 
> SAM
> 
> I killed her, and I set Lucifer free.
> 
> BOBBY
> 
> You what?
> 
> SAM
> 
> **You guys warned me about Ruby, the demon blood, but I didn't listen. I brought this on.**
> 
> BOBBY
> 
> **You're damn right you didn't listen. You were reckless and selfish and arrogant.**
> 
> SAM
> 
> I'm sorry.
> 
> BOBBY
> 
> Oh, yeah? **You're sorry you started Armageddon? This kind of thing don't get forgiven, boy. If, by some miracle, we pull this off...I want you to lose my number.** You understand me?
> 
> SAM nods. DEAN doesn't protest.
> 
> SAM
> 
> There's an old church nearby. Maybe I'll go read some of the lore books there.
> 
> BOBBY
> 
> Yeah. You do that.

One of the interesting things about this scene -- and there are many both in-text and meta -- is that after his initial protest, Dean falls silent. He doesn’t interrupt Sam, and he doesn’t interrupt Bobby, either. He doesn’t protest what Bobby’s saying, he doesn’t intervene in any way. He stands back and listens.

Another key aspect of this scene is Jared’s performance. The audience is clearly intended to sympathize with Sam here. His body language and facial expressions are vulnerable and hurt, blatantly childlike -- a kid being yelled at by his dad, a kicked puppy -- which solicits audience reactions of identification and/or protection. This is reinforced by how the scene’s focus begins with Sam’s POV as he builds up the courage to speak, to confess to Bobby what he’s done, which sets the emotional tone and point of view.  In a confrontation between a secondary character expressing angry condemnation and a main character reacting to it with cowed vulnerability, the hearts of a loyal audience naturally go out to the latter rather than the former; but especially so when we see him bravely take a breath before he begins to speak.

It hardly matters that Bobby’s reaction to what Sam’s done is a completely reasonable one or that Sam has done some horrific shit, including Nurse Cindy’s murder (which none of the other characters know about, as it is never again mentioned by Sam or the narrative), because Sam looks sad and lost and hurt and vulnerable. This is narratively manipulative even as it might make sense as a human reaction for Sam if he was a real person.

Different choices could have been made in how to play this scene if the intent wasn’t to aim the audience sympathy in specific directions. Frankly, Sam feeling this way is a consequence of his own actions; but given he’s one of the heroes of the series and after 4 seasons carries immense audience identification and love, playing the scene in this manner is a deliberate tactic to generate sympathy and forgiveness of the character following a season where TPTB feared they’d taken things too far and were aware of intense fandom reaction. It ends up casting Sam as victim of other people’s reactions to his own horrible behavior, which becomes a continual theme in the first part of s5.

In-universe, how hurt Sam appears at Bobby’s reaction to his confession contributes to my reading of Sam’s lack of reflection on his actions and that his unconscious motivations in apologizing are primarily about relieving his own discomfort. He’s hurt that Bobby says what he did is unforgivable, at Bobby’s rejection of him. Sam’s only human and it’s understandable that he has an emotional reaction here, and I’m not saying he’s wrong to have one; indeed how he handles it is appropriate -- he doesn’t get defensive, for example, and accepts what Bobby says.

But what his reaction tells me is Bobby’s response was a surprise to Sam. He didn’t see it coming, because he hoped the conversation would follow the pattern I described in the last post: confession, apology, forgiveness, move on.  If Sam had in any way dealt with the magnitude of what he’s confessing here, a refusal to forgive and breaking off the relationship by someone directly involved wouldn’t be a surprise.

In this scene Sam finally gets somewhat specific in what he’s apologizing for. He takes responsibility for ignoring everyone’s warnings about Ruby, for drinking the blood, and that the results of his choices led to Lucifer’s release.

Notably, he doesn’t apologize for knocking Bobby out with the butt of a rifle when he escaped the panic room. Sam never apologizes for anything he’s done that personally impacted either Bobby or Dean, and in both cases those acts involved violent assault. He also doesn’t mention the extensive lying. The reason I find this omission interesting is that in addition to the strangulation, Sam’s lying is a primary driver of Dean’s distrust of him. And given Sam never acknowledges the deceit or the strangulation, his anger over Dean’s continuing lack of trust adds to my sense that Sam has failed to grapple with exactly what he’s done or why it’s continuing to have consequences to his relationship with Dean. He seems to have no concept that “lies ruin relationships.”

The only actions Sam ever specifically names or apologizes for are those whose consequences are impersonal and world-scale. “I brought this on” is about the Apocalypse, not any effect on any individual, let alone the two closest people in his life.

At face value this scene with Bobby shows Sam trying to do the right thing. What stands out to me is that this exchange -- the only time Sam gets specific about what he’s apologizing for without blame shifting of any kind -- exists on a meta level in order to set up the contrast between the “wrong” response to him and the “right” response to him from the other characters.

Bobby’s reaction here: anger, expressing that Sam was reckless, selfish, and arrogant -- criticizing Sam -- is allowed by the narrative only because it isn’t actually Bobby talking, but a demon.

The demon possessing Bobby calls what Sam’s done unforgivable, and exiles him. This occurs in the narrative to give Bobby, free of the demon, a chance to counter it later as an example of the proper response, for Dean and for the audience:

 

> BOBBY: I was awake. I know what I said back there. I just want you to know that.. **.that** **_was_ ** **the demon talking. I ain't cutting you out, boy. Not ever.**

Not ever. Sam’s reckless actions can directly contribute to the start of the end of the world, Sam can assault Bobby and strangle his brother in a rage, but the right thing to do, symbolized by Bobby’s reassuring kindness, is not to cut him out. Because that’s not what family does.

It’s all part of the narrative’s campaign to convince Dean and the audience that Dean’s anger and distrust and lack of forgiveness, Dean’s impulse to separation from Sam, are wrong. The right way to handle what’s happened is to forgive Sam, we’re told over and over. Nothing is so bad that it can’t be forgiven, another character tells Sam, in the episode in which Dean just barely begins to express his relief at being separate from Sam.

Anger at Sam after he’s apologized, naming what Sam did in bald terms without shifting at least part of the blame onto Dean or Ruby, expressing the possibility that Sam won’t be forgiven and that the relationship with him will be severed, all of this is painted as unreasonable, as demonic, instead of a rational response to what has occurred. That’s the entire point of this scene.

Take this in context with the way the earlier scene was structured to garner audience sympathy and identification with Sam, rather than the person he’s apologizing to. Every one of Sam’s apologies is framed in some way like this -- with the thumb on the scale. It’s incredibly manipulative.


	14. Chapter 14

Bobby’s refutation of the demon’s angry recriminations and rejection of Sam, Bobby’s unconditional acceptance and forgiveness, are the context for this next scene, where Dean’s attempt to smooth things over crumbles outside of the hospital: 

> DEAN
> 
> I mean, I'll fight. I'll fight till the last man, but let's at least be honest. I mean, we don't stand a snowball's chance, and you know that. I mean, hell, you of all people know that.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Dean… **Is there something you want to say to me?**

In the aftermath of “Lucifer Rising,” Dean has not been verbally or even nonverbally passive aggressive nor said anything about what happened, only stopped Sam’s attempts to force a conversation. The only show of anger he’s displayed has been over Sam’s insistence on talking it out, after Sam’s first manipulative non-apology. Listen to Dean’s tone here: to me, it’s more about despair over their chances (undermining the speech he gave for Bobby’s benefit) than a personal criticism of Sam; but I do think what Sam’s done directly contributes to that despair.

So what prompts Sam’s reaction here, as if what Dean’s said is intended as a personal jab and not an expression of hopelessness, or that Dean’s hopelessness is unwarranted and aimed at Sam?

It’s his own discomfort and shame over what he’s done rising up again. It’s his fear over what Dean is feeling and thinking about him in the aftermath of Sam’s actions.

In the day or so since “Lucifer Rising,” Sam has repeatedly pushed Dean to talk about what happened, and the boundary Dean tried to set has been ignored. Here he finally gives in, and there’s plenty of evidence that he’s not ready to talk.

> DEAN
> 
> I tried, Sammy. I mean, I really tried. **But I just can't keep pretending that everything's all right. Because it's not. And it's never going to be.** You chose a demon over your own brother—
> 
> SAM rolls his eyes.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> —and look what happened.

Sam’s first reaction to what he’s said he’s wanted -- to talk about what happened -- is to roll his eyes at Dean. It’s a full body gesture of impatient frustration, as if Dean is being melodramatic and oversensitive. Dean doesn’t even mention the strangulation; it gets reduced to “you chose a demon over your own brother” which like I said earlier, sounds petty and weird. Sam reacts here as if Dean is jealous of Sam’s ex-girlfriend.

When Sam said he wanted to talk about things, what he meant was that he wanted to explain himself and have Dean tell him it was all okay. So when that doesn’t happen, his response gives himself away.

Everyone, starting with Bobby in 4.22, frames Dean’s reactions to being lied to and strangled as over the top, petty, whiny, ridiculous. The pressure the show exerts to paint this picture is immense. Sam strangled his brother and he * **_rolls his eyes*_ ** when his brother barely begins to express his sense of betrayal.

Gee, I wonder why Dean was reluctant to talk.

Sam never explicitly asked Dean to pretend that everything was alright. But the unspoken subtext in his approach to Dean in the aftermath of what he’s done makes that suggestion for him, implicitly indicating to Dean what’s expected of him -- which Dean names as “forgive and forget.”

The very idea that Dean thinks he’s supposed to be able to pretend nothing happened at this point -- a day or two after Sam strangled him -- is a sign of just how deeply the mindfuck Bobby pulled affected him. Bobby told him to get over his whiny reaction to being strangled and go rescue his brother from himself, and Dean feels like he’s *failed* because he can’t just forgive and forget. After all, family is supposed to hurt.

When Dean says “it’s never going to be alright,” notice the echo of what Sam himself said earlier to Dean: “there's nothing I can do or say that will ever make this right.” There’s a difference: Sam is saying he can’t right the wrong that is in the past (so let it go); Dean is expressing that things will never be the same because of that wrong, that there has been a permanent change to their relationship. That things between them will never be “all right” in the future.

I believe that the earlier manipulative “there’s nothing I can do to make this right” faux apology from Sam contributes to Dean expressing that things will never be all right between them. If Sam is saying explicitly that he doesn’t see what he can do to repair his relationship with Dean, to atone, or to even admit what happened, it’s pretty natural that Dean might see things as unsalvageable.

So this isn’t Dean giving up on Sam unfairly or overreacting or not giving Sam a chance. It’s Dean taking Sam at his word about Sam’s intentions to not do anything to repair the situation.

> SAM
> 
> I would give anything—anything—to take it all back.

While I do think Sam is sincere here, it’s really hard to take after that eyeroll. The eyeroll -- his dismissive expression of frustration at Dean’s pain -- was his initial, unfiltered reaction to being confronted with the fallout of his treatment of his brother, to the consequences of his actions. He says what sounds like all the right words (though again, I’d argue that this is a manipulative apology style), but does expressing a desire to “take it all back” serve Sam’s need to feel better, or the needs of the person he harmed?

“Taking it back” is not a concrete action he can follow through on. It’s an empty gesture that requires nothing from Sam. Saying he’d do anything to take it all back when he strangled someone means absolutely nothing beyond admitting he was in the wrong. Because he can’t take it back. It happened. And even here he avoids specificity about what he’d take back, lumping all of his actions together. Is he referring to the strangulation, drinking blood, lying, or that he contributed to starting the Apocalypse? 

> DEAN
> 
> I know you would. And I know how sorry you are. I do. But, man... **you were the one that I depended on the most. And you let me down in ways that I can't even**...
> 
> DEAN pauses, struggling for words.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> I'm just—I'm having a hard time forgiving and forgetting here. You know?

Sam isn’t the only one who absorbed the cultural script for what’s supposed to happen: apology requiring forgiveness, and forgiveness equaling forgetting. Dean has too, by even expecting that he should be able to “forgive and forget” at this point. What’s widely accepted is that no matter how dire the harmful act, no matter how incomplete or manipulative the apology, once someone apologizes forgiveness is the expected automatic next step, and forgiveness means absolution, and absolution means pretending like nothing happened.

Our culture gives lip service to the real meaning of apology and forgiveness, but if you scratch below the surface, what’s expected is clear. And Bobby just underlined this in the hospital, taking back the demon’s harsh words and saying there was nothing so bad that it can’t be forgiven. That even expressing anger over what Sam did was “the demon talking.” That Sam need do nothing beyond apologizing, that change and amends are unnecessary.


	15. Chapter 15

There’s a widely accepted “truth” in fandom that Dean puts people on pedestals and then can’t deal when they prove to be flawed human beings. Possibly this is true in other circumstances, but when applied to this situation the intent is to minimize the harm done to Dean by framing him as overreacting and his overreactions as due to his codependence or his abusive early family life. The point of this “truth” in this context is to invalidate anything Dean says and feels about what happened.

This interpretation never appears to consider that Sam’s actions had any real harmful impact on Dean. That Dean’s reaction might be a reasonable one to being extensively lied to, watching his brother drink blood, and being strangled. The narrative itself contributes to this manipulative “truth” about Dean in the “boo hoo princess” speech Bobby gives him in 4.22, which says basically the same thing. Dean’s expectations are too high, unreasonable. Family is supposed to hurt.

Another related “truth” is that Dean shouldn’t be relying on Sam in the way he expresses here, that this is codependence. And though I have major issues with the concept of codependence and the way the term is specifically used and misused in this fandom, it names something that is true about Dean’s coping style. However, there’s a dangerous pattern in fandom of viewing Dean solely through the lens of “codependency,” which leads to pathologizing all of his reactions and everything he says as inherently flawed, irrational, or inappropriate, with the invisible subtext that whoever he’s reacting to is unbiased and rational.

Is it unfair of Dean to tell Sam that he depended on Sam, and that Sam let him down… in the face of lying and blood drinking and *strangulation*? In the face of the small number of people who are aware of and fighting the apocalypse?

This instance isn’t “codependence” rearing its head. This isn’t Dean putting Sam on a pedestal and overreacting when it turns out Sam is a flawed human. Dean is set up so that anything he says in response to what’s happened (especially the direct impact on himself, rather than the world) that isn’t complete and immediate absolution is seen as hurtful to Sam, as judgmental and over the top, as pathologically codependent and inappropriately critical rather than a valid expression of hurt at having been harmed.

Dean has the right to be able to trust and rely on anyone in a close relationship, let alone his family, not to lie to him and attack and strangle him when he calls their actions into question. And he has the right to express his feelings about having been harmed to the one who harmed him.

Analysis of Dean in s4-5 that pegs him as only seeing black and white, being harshly judgmental and self-righteous, of being too easy to distrust, is grossly inappropriate and serves to minimize what Sam’s done and its impact on Dean. Because there’s that pesky strangulation to take into account. And I really don’t think it’s an overreaction to tell the person who strangled you that things will never be okay between you. The strangulation is the elephant in the room of this conversation, this episode, this season, and all fandom discussions of it.

Lastly I think Dean’s breaking off into inarticulation when he talks about Sam letting him down “in ways that [he] can’t even…” supports my argument that Dean hasn’t had time to process what’s happened or what he feels about what’s happened or what he wants to do about it, which leads directly to the next section: 

> SAM
> 
> **What can I do?**
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Honestly? Nothing. I just don't... **I don't think that we can ever be what we were** . You know? **I just don't think I can trust you.**

On a meta level, looking at audience sympathy again, TPTB are very aware that this fandom reacts negatively (to put it mildly) to any hint of conflict between or separation of the brothers. So what Dean says here -- breaking the brotherly bond, a major audience draw -- is intended to hit a specific audience fear, to create dramatic tension. Given the structure of the show, the audience knows that this state cannot last. So how will it be resolved?

Without the other blatant manipulation going on I wouldn’t be so cynical about narrative intent when it comes to this point; but with all of that cumulative pressure, it’s clear where the responsibility lies: on Dean, to take this statement back, to reconcile with and forgive Sam. That’s the path of least resistance. Making clear to the audience that Sam absolutely deserves these consequences to his actions and needs to atone for them and rebuild trust with Dean is a much harder task and one the narrative is uninterested in exploring, given the “boo hoo princess” scene alone, let alone the other manipulations this meta documents.

If the narrative was serious about actually confronting what Sam had done, the strangulation and Nurse Cindy’s murder wouldn’t have instantly fallen into the memory hole. The “permanent changes” Sam was supposed to have experienced as a consequence of his demon blood consumption wouldn’t have been literally deus ex machina-ed away. But the narrative wanted to have its cake (edgy, dark side of the force drama and conflict between the main characters) and eat it too (retain/recover Sam’s status as sympathetic hero the audience emotionally identifies with, repair the Brother Bond) without putting in the hard work of doing so in an organic manner that places responsibility fully on the character who committed horrific acts.

So how will the breach be resolved? The narrative has already modeled for the audience what it should expect from Dean, when Bobby retracted Demon!Bobby’s harsh words and promised not to cut Sam out, not ever. That condemnation of and breaking off a relationship with Sam is demonic.

Sam asking what he can do looks like the right response. And it would be, had he given Dean more time and space, had he respected Dean’s boundaries to not to be forced into this conversation, had he reflected on how he’s harmed Dean, had he directly named how he harmed Dean, had he made any attempt before this to center Dean’s needs as the one harmed, had he not previously claimed there was nothing he could do, had he not *rolled his eyes* as his reaction to the first time Dean started to express anything about what happened.

But all of that cumulative context exists, and so asking here what he can do is too little, too late.

I struggled with this exchange for years. For a long time, I believed that Dean telling Sam that there was nothing he could do meant that Dean wasn’t allowing Sam to make amends, basically stonewalling him.

If Dean said there was nothing Sam could do, why should Sam try? It was unfair of Dean not to give Sam a chance, and unfair of him to expect anything more of Sam later after telling him there was nothing to do, no way to make it better, and that he didn’t want to talk about it.

Then I shifted to feeling like it was unfair of Sam to ask Dean to suggest how Sam could make anything right with Dean, especially this soon after things went down. I do still think that is a premature question, and unfair if understandable from Sam’s POV. I think he genuinely meant well, but his unconscious priority was making himself feel better, avoiding facing himself and his discomfort with what he’s done as well as Dean’s pain. Because it is the responsibility of the person who harmed another to figure out what he’s done that was harmful and change.

It’s not on Dean to tell Sam that physically assaulting people who are saying things you don’t like, up to the point of strangling them, is not the way to handle your problems.

It really shouldn’t be up to Dean to tell Sam that he’d like to hear an acknowledgment of exactly how Sam harmed Dean -- owning up to the lying and violence towards Dean, and specifically saying that he was wrong for those things, and that he understands they harmed Dean and broke Dean’s trust of him, and reassurances that it will never happen again, and steps he’ll take to make sure of it, to attempt to earn back Dean’s trust.

Asking the person you harmed if there’s anything you can do is appropriate after all of that has taken place. After you’ve taken responsibility, named what you’ve done and what you’re going to do to guarantee you won’t repeat that harm, after you’ve given the one you harmed the opportunity to express themselves on their own timeline.

After you’ve held yourself fully accountable for your actions.

Without all of that, this question is a way to escape real accountability by shifting it back to the one harmed while still sounding like you’re doing the right thing. It allows you to reassure yourself that the person you harmed said there’s nothing you can do, that you don’t actually have to face what you’ve done or the consequences.

For a long time I felt like surely there was something Sam could do to make amends, and that Dean, under so much pressure from the various crises (apocalypse, Bobby’s stabbing, Sam’s strangulation of him, etc), shouldn’t be expected to name the solution to his and Sam’s interpersonal crisis at this point.

You know what I think now?

I think there are things that happen that permanently change relationships. That no amount of apologizing can repair, that even changing behavior and never repeating what was done don’t make up for. That even if forgiveness and acceptance and letting go happen, you will never get back to where you were before the event happened. You can’t unbreak that bone.

This is what Dean expresses to Sam. I don’t think Dean trusts Sam in the way he had again. And I’d argue it proves true through the rest of the series. And that he is 100% justified given what happened. I think Dean’s misstep here is that he doesn’t make the separation with Sam permanent. And there are (again, narratively manipulative) circumstances as to why that didn’t happen, which I’ll touch on later.

Sometimes relationships don’t recover from crises like this. I’d say strangulation is grounds for that kind of change. I’d argue that after being strangled, it’s a perfectly rational response. What’s incredibly disturbing to me is that the show allows Dean this response, only to throw everything it has at proving why he’s wrong and why he’s the one who needs to change, to learn to love Sam the right way.

Exactly how do you go about getting back to unconditionally trusting someone who strangled you out of rage?

The funny thing is, this change is acknowledged in season 8’s “Southern Comfort,” when Dean is still shown to “hold a grudge” over Sam “choosing a demon over his brother.” Which leads me to wonder why the show makes the choice to portray Dean carrying this “grudge” years later without addressing why exactly this wound has never healed. And the answer to that question starts to look pretty ugly given how canon has handled other issues.

This reality -- that there has been a permanent, negative effect on the relationship between Sam and Dean due to Sam’s actions, does not fit with the show’s bottom line and the expectations of its audience, which is that it is telling the “love story of Sam and Dean.” So things had to happen to ensure that the one breaking up that love story was seen as the culprit.

If Dean had only forgiven Sam here, the love story could continue, you see.


	16. Chapter 16

In the next episode, “Good God Y’all,” the brothers follow a call from Rufus and land in a town they believe has been overtaken by demons. They run into Ellen, who tells them the demons have Jo. Ellen has rounded up a small band of surviving humans and Sam and Dean attempt to figure out how to save them while finding their friends.

There’s been no discussion of how recent events might impact Sam and Dean’s working relationship, and this comes to a head in 5.02. The events in this episode further illustrate how Sam hasn’t faced the severity of his actions or the need to earn back Dean’s trust. He’s said he knows he’s done something seriously wrong, but his behavior exhibits otherwise and shows that he fully expects that Dean should act like nothing has happened. He said he’d do anything to take back what he did, and asked Dean what he could do, but has yet to consider actually examining or changing any of his behavior.

Sam behaves as if his destructive actions are in the past and therefore should have no impact on the present, despite those actions having taken place mere days prior in canon. He hasn’t reflected on how his behavior might affect Dean’s ability to trust him not only generally but in specific situations in which his actions have made him especially untrustworthy -- so when those situations come up and Dean reacts to them in rational ways, Sam meets this with outrage and violent hostility.

Ellen brings Sam and Dean to a safe room where she’s gathered a group of survivors. The brothers discuss risking a trip to a sporting goods store in town to retrieve weapons to arm the survivors in order to escape. Once they’re alone, Dean stops Sam in the hall to suggest Sam stay behind and help Ellen train the survivors while Dean makes the trek alone:

> DEAN
> 
> No no no. It's gonna go a lot faster if you stay and help, okay?
> 
> SAM
> 
> While you go get guns _and_ salt _and_ look for Jo and Rufus? That's stupid.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> I can handle it.
> 
> SAM pauses, realizing.
> 
> SAM
> 
> You don't want me going out there.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> I didn't say that.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Around demons.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> I didn't say that.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Fine, then let's go.

It’s hard to convey with just the transcript, but Sam’s realization here is voiced with a tone of affronted accusation. If he had at all considered the seriousness of his actions over the past year and their impact on Dean, he wouldn’t be handling Dean’s reaction to circumstances this way. He wouldn’t be surprised that Dean doesn’t trust him, for one thing. Instead he might actually have doubts about his own ability to hunt safely around demons, as he realizes by the end of the episode. And he certainly wouldn’t act like Dean is treating him unfairly by being hesitant. Given recent history, Dean’s distrust is appropriate to the situation.

Instead Sam behaves as if the magic cure should have erased any doubts Dean might have about him, that Dean’s hesitation and distrust here are outrageously unfair responses. Rather than honestly facing Dean’s hesitation and addressing it by taking responsibility for its cause, Sam calls his bluff, daring him to speak aloud the elephant in the room. 

> SAM
> 
> I'll get the salt. You get the guns.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> We'll go together.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Dean, it's right there. Can we at least do this like professionals?

He pushes the responsibility onto Dean to be the “bad guy” and name what they both know is going on, and both -- down deep, whether Sam wants to admit it or not -- know is a fair question given the situation. He even positions Dean’s distrust of him as Dean being “unprofessional” instead of reacting appropriately to circumstances. The very fact that this is Sam’s response to a such a hesitant approach to the issue from Dean is very telling of his mindset. Dean even made sure to approach Sam in private here, as he will again later, protecting Sam from scrutiny by Ellen or the others. It is Sam, in fact, who is being irresponsibly and dangerously “unprofessional” by insisting on putting himself into a situation where he’ll be tempted to drink blood without any realistic sense of his own capability to resist.

Dean’s reaction is telling as well: he’s afraid to come out and directly say that he’s distrustful of Sam around demons, and so he tries to find a way around it, and then when Sam reacts, Dean denies it. One one level this could be seen as passive aggressively avoidant, even enabling behavior. But put in the context of what happened when he *did* confront Sam directly over Sam’s behavior in 4.21, is this hesitancy and denial a surprise?

This just emphasizes to me that Dean’s reactions to Sam in these first few episodes are at least subconsciously driven by a fear that Sam will get violent with him again should he piss Sam off. Which is exactly what happens. It’s a textbook example of why some passive-aggressive behavior develops in the first place: if one is threatened with or experiences violence for being direct, one tends to avoid direct statements that might be met with violence.

The brothers split up. While Sam is gathering the salt, he’s attacked by (what he’s made to think are) two demons. Sam kills the demons with Ruby’s knife -- again, it’s telling that Sam has the knife and not Dean, and this is yet another sign Sam hasn’t actually thought any of this through (and doesn’t see the need to do so), just believes himself cured and his issues in the past, clean slate. After he kills the demons, Sam’s attention is drawn by their blood, and he’s obviously tempted, collecting some of the blood from the blade onto his thumb as if preparing to consume it.

Dean interrupts him before that can happen and sees Sam with the bloody knife and blood on his hand. From this scene it’s clear Dean’s hesitation was *completely warranted* -- as Sam himself will admit at the end of the episode. Even if Sam never showed temptation, Dean’s distrust would still be rational; but given this scene, it just drives home how inappropriate Sam’s reaction to that distrust really is.

After they’ve delivered the supplies to Ellen and her survivors, Dean notices Sam sitting by himself. Dean has not said anything about the blood up to this point, and neither has Sam. It’s astounding to me that Dean manages to both avoid directly bringing up what he just saw, but also be *supportive* of Sam here, given what’s happened:

> DEAN
> 
> What's wrong?
> 
> SAM
> 
> It's just...at the store. Those demons were possessing teenagers. I mean, I had to slit some kid's throat.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Come on, Sam, you had to.
> 
> SAM
> 
> I know. I just...it used to be like… I just wish I could save people like I used to.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> What, you mean when you were all hopped up on demon blood?
> 
> SAM
> 
> I didn't say that.

Sam’s desire to save people from demons without killing them is both understandable and sympathetic, and one of the strongest rationalizations behind his destructive actions in the previous season. He didn’t say it outright, but “like I used to” can only mean one thing, and his reaction here -- the denial, the deflection from the baldly stated truth from Dean about exactly what Sam’s “like I used to” dodge refers to, is revealing.

It’s something Sam clearly needs further reflection on -- away from a situation in which he is making life or death decisions and exposed to the potential temptation of blood. It’s something he should have done before involving himself in a case involving demons; at the very least he should have taken responsibility for his recent past when the issue came up instead of acting resentful when Dean points out the obvious and exhibits distrust of him.

Following this exchange Ellen decides to go after her missing daughter and Sam volunteers to go with her. This appears to be a direct reaction to Dean’s bringing up the demon blood, as if after the scene in the store with the bloody knife he feels he needs to prove to himself and Dean that he can resist the temptation. It’s frankly reckless behavior.

Dean stops Sam and asks to talk to him in private. Note that both times Dean has attempted to voice his concerns, he’s intentionally done so out of Ellen’s earshot. When Ellen first met up with them and asked if it was the apocalypse, Dean also kept quiet, allowing Sam to choose whether to reveal the truth of his involvement or not. Dean enables Sam to decide when and where and with whom he reveals his responsibility for releasing Lucifer.

> DEAN
> 
> Why's it got to be you?
> 
> SAM
> 
> Oh, that's right, I forgot. **You think I'll take one look at a demon and suddenly fall off the wagon, as if, after everything, I haven't learned my lesson.**
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Well, have you?
> 
> SAM slams DEAN into the wall. The door is still open; ELLEN looks over.
> 
> SAM
> 
> If you actually think I—

But Sam *was* considering it, that was clear, just as it’s also not clear if he would have resisted had Dean not interrupted him when he did. Paralleling the events of 4.21, Sam lashes out with physical violence when Dean punctures his ability to delude himself, when Dean directly names what’s happening, when Dean dares to question him. Sam slamming Dean into the wall has got to bring back memories of Sam strangling Dean for both of them, given the context. Again, is it any wonder Dean wasn’t direct with Sam about his distrust?

Asking Sam if he’s “learned his lesson” about drinking blood is a completely necessary question under the circumstances. And Sam behaves atrociously in response.

Sam reacts to Dean’s hesitation as if it’s an unfair accusation because Sam knows the truth that he would have drank the blood if Dean hadn’t interrupted him and he saw that knowledge on Dean’s face. He’s ashamed that Dean caught him and accurately read the situation, and turns it around into rage at and resentment of Dean rather than dealing with the problem. The problem for Sam isn’t that he knows he very well might “fall off the wagon” and nearly did, the problem is Dean sharing those doubts. Dean’s in the wrong, betraying Sam, for not believing in him unconditionally. Dean’s doubt hurts Sam’s feelings because it doesn’t allow Sam his rationalizations and denial about his own behavior. This is the exact same pattern of behavior that led him to strangle Dean in the hotel room.

He throws it back at Dean like an accusation of his own -- accusing Dean of not trusting him -- * _when his behavior is not trustworthy_ * and Dean has every reason to see it that way. Why should Dean trust him with no evidence to the contrary that he’s “learned his lesson” about demon blood, just because Sam says he has? Sam hasn’t earned the right to that trust. After you’ve broken someone’s trust to this extent, not to mention physically assaulted them while under the influence, you don’t get to expect their trust as a given.


	17. Chapter 17

Sam’s reaction drives home two points for me: first, as I’ve argued, he has failed to confront the consequences of his own actions in any meaningful way, especially when it comes to his relationship with Dean and how that might impact their day to day partnership. And related, Sam feels wounded by Dean’s lack of trust in him because he’s still not put events into the context of his own behavior being out of control, harmful, and untrustworthy.

An underlying subtext in these scenes is the childhood resentment I discussed previously: that Sam interprets anything remotely critical of his behavior, no matter how circumspect or appropriate to the situation, as Dean “bossing him around” -- especially when it has to do with something he’s doing that is in fact dangerous or destructive. 

There’s the echo here of a parentification-related “you’re not my Dad” reaction that I will explore further later in this essay, but it bears direct influence on this dynamic. In brief, Sam resents the ghost of Dean’s childhood authority over him -- an undermined authority Dean did not have any choice in, as it was forced on him by John’s abuse -- and so in the present, as an adult, there is no way for Dean to approach the subject of his doubts about Sam or his distrust of Sam around demon blood without triggering Sam’s feelings around bossiness, control, and judgment. 

“Demons” including Rufus and Jo attack Ellen and Sam and take Sam hostage. Sam is confronted by one of the supposed survivors from Ellen’s camp, who turns out to be the Horseman of the Apocalypse War, who has been making the town see demons and kill each other. 

War confirms all of Dean’s doubts about Sam and the demon blood are valid:

> SAM
> 
> I'm gonna kill you myself.
> 
> WAR
> 
> Oh, that's adorable, considering you're my poster boy.
> 
> SAM
> 
> What's that supposed to mean?
> 
> WAR
> 
> **You can't stop thinking about it, ever since you saw it dripping off the blade of that knife.**
> 
> SAM
> 
> You're wrong.
> 
> WAR
> 
> **Save your protests for your brother. I can see inside your head. And man, it is one-track city in there. Blood, blood, blood. Lust for power. Same as always. You want to be strong again. But not just strong. Stronger than everybody.** Good intentions—quick slide to hell, buddy boy. You feel bad now? Wait till you're thigh deep in warm corpses. Because, my friend, I'm just getting started.

War reiterates the theme from season 4: that one of Sam’s motivations for drinking the demon blood is how powerful it made him feel; not just strong, but *stronger than everybody,* stronger than Dean. This is another aspect of season 4 that Sam has yet to deal with.

By the end of the episode, the brothers, Jo, Ellen and Rufus are reunited and the townspeople are left with the knowledge that they’d been manipulated into killing each other over nothing. The episode closes with a scene between Sam and Dean at a scenic rest stop where Sam finally starts to confront his behavior.

> SAM
> 
> I know you don't trust me.
> 
> DEAN looks away.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Just, now I realize something. **I don't trust me either. From the minute I saw that blood, only thought in my head...and I tell myself it's for the right reasons, my intentions are good, and it, it feels true, you know?** But I think, underneath...I just miss the feeling. I know how messed up that sounds, which means I know how messed up I am. Thing is, the problem's not the demon blood, not really. **I mean, I, what I did, I can't blame the blood or Ruby or...anything. The problem's me. How far I'll go.** There's something in me that...scares the hell out of me, Dean. In the last couple of days, I caught another glimpse…

It’s illuminating to contrast this with the framing Sam uses in “Fallen Idols,” three episodes later. Here, he’s placing all of the responsibility for his actions on himself, on whatever it is inside of him that causes him to need to feel strong, that thing that drives “how far” he’ll go. He never gets to confront what that is, never gets to the root of the problem. Instead, in “Fallen Idols,” he’ll push that core responsibility off onto Dean rather deal with that thing inside that scares him. 

> DEAN
> 
> So what are you saying?
> 
> SAM
> 
> **I'm in no shape to be hunting. I need to step back, 'cause I'm dangerous.** Maybe it's best we just...go our separate ways.

It’s important and a big step that Sam recognizes and states flatly that he’s dangerous, and that he needs to remove himself from hunting. However, though Sam comes close to admitting that Dean was right to distrust him, he never comes out and says so directly and he never acknowledges that Dean’s reactions in the episode were completely appropriate or that his own were inappropriate. This might be splitting hairs, but to me it’s revealing: “You don’t trust me, I don’t trust me either” isn’t quite “you were right not to trust me and I’m sorry for how I reacted to your distrust and this is what I’ll do in the future to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

He never apologizes for how he treated Dean for having those doubts and he never mentions the retaliatory physical violence, let alone apologizes for it. He says he’s “dangerous” but he never explains what that means specifically. His suggestion that they separate echoes his line to Ruby in 4.22 that Dean is better off far away from him, and implicitly acknowledges that he knows he’s dangerous *to Dean* -- but again, this isn’t stated. Possibly because if he did admit he’s dangerous to Dean himself, not just in the general, that might lead us back to the unacknowledged strangulation.

> DEAN
> 
> Well, I think you're right.
> 
> SAM
> 
> I was expecting a fight.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> The truth is I spend more time worrying about you than about doing the job right. And I just, I can't afford that, you know? Not now.
> 
> SAM
> 
> I'm sorry, Dean.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> I know you are, Sam.

It’s important that Dean didn’t end the conversation by reassuring Sam that “it’s okay” the way he might have in the first episode of the season. Dean doesn’t take back anything he’s said about how he can’t trust Sam, he doesn’t contradict Sam’s admittance that he’s dangerous, and he never negates his statement in the previous episode that things between them will never be okay again. In other words, he does nothing to try to make Sam feel better about anything that’s happened. What Dean doesn’t say here is as important as what little he does say. These points are not just important for the sake of Dean himself. They will drive his initial reaction to Sam’s revelation about Lucifer in 5.04 and on a meta level they drive the narrative’s need to force Dean to accept Sam back into partnership against his better judgment, via the bludgeon of “The End.”

The tragedy of this season is that this episode marks the short-lived beginning of Sam’s much needed self-reflection, which he prematurely curtailed when Lucifer shows up. There are hints to suggest part of the core issue, what Sam names here as the thing inside him that scares him: whatever it is that makes Sam feel the need to be “a big bad wolf in a world of little pigs,” or “stronger than everybody.” What’s interesting is that this issue appears to have passed the writers by as well, despite the fact that they established the theme in the first place. Instead, they choose to have Sam pass the buck onto Dean in “Fallen Idols,” as if it is (solely) Dean’s role as big brother that caused that need.

The show asks you consider these hints -- Sam’s need to be the strongest, to be superior, to be the sole hero -- as driving his actions in season 4. But it then insists in season 5, meant to be Sam’s redemption, that the only solution to save the world from the apocalypse Sam played a key role in starting is his plan to once again place himself in the role of sole savior, *exactly the way he saw himself in season 4.* The whole “it’s my mess, I need to clean it up” reasoning starts to read quite differently than it was intended if you consider it in this context. The show does Sam’s character an immense disservice in the overt manipulations of plot that don’t allow him to complete this reflection, and in doing so ends up with a seriously disturbing “redemption” in “Swan Song” that repeats most of the same actions that supposedly required redemption in the first place. 


	18. Chapter 18

The brothers spend the majority of the next two episodes separated. In “Free to Be You and Me” Sam gets a job at a bar and Dean continues routine hunts on his own. Lucifer waits until Sam is separated from Dean to visit his preferred vessel for the first time. This has interesting parallels to how Ruby finally succeeded in convincing Sam to work on his powers only after Dean was in hell; perhaps with Dean out of the picture Lucifer thinks he’ll have a similar advantage. In “The End” we’ll be told that Future!Sam says Yes to Lucifer only after he and Dean are separated. There appears to be a running theme here that the show never brings out of subtext, if it’s aware of it at all.

Lucifer comes to Sam in a dream, in the image of Jessica:

> JESS
> 
> What are you doing, Sam?
> 
> SAM
> 
> What do you mean?
> 
> JESS
> 
> **Running away.** Haven't we been down this road before?

Lucifer twists Sam’s responsible decision to take time out into a character flaw. As if Sam gaining perspective on what drives his destructive behavior might be detrimental to Lucifer’s plan to get Sam to say yes.

> SAM
> 
> No. It's different now.
> 
> JESS
> 
> Really?
> 
> SAM
> 
> **Last time I wanted to be normal. This time I know I'm a freak.**

Sam hasn’t gained the perspective he needs, which is that he’s not inherently monstrous or tainted, and that his actions have been driven by his choices. He still thinks there’s something wrong with himself at the core causing him to do these things -- and this belief allows him to fail to take full responsibility, both because he believes down deep that he can’t help but do monstrous things and because this fear causes him to recoil from that idea and project blame for his actions onto other people. It also allows Lucifer to scare him into prematurely ending his period of self-reflection, because he fears that Lucifer is right about him.

In one sense, Lucifer *is* right. Sam does run away from himself, *because of Lucifer.* He fails to confront why he has that need to be the big bad wolf. And this is the key to my argument that contrary to what we’re told, what we’re shown is that Sam cuts short his reflection before he can gain much out of it. The underlying emotional issues that drove him to dependence on blood and power are never addressed.  After he rejoins Dean, he goes out of his way to avoid looking further at the root of his own behavior and instead latches onto the idea that it’s due to Dean, so Dean is the one who needs to change. 

Believing there is something inherently wrong with himself (that he’s a “freak”) is the result of Sam’s abusive childhood, compounded with the knowledge that he’d been given demon blood as a baby, as if that was a true reflection on himself and not something done to him. If he can’t own that, he can’t own that he was fully in control of his own choices and actions in season 4, and if he can’t do that, there’s no way for him to navigate the consequences of those actions in a way that doesn’t deflect from and compound the harm he did.

> JESS
> 
> Even at Stanford you knew.  **You knew there was something dark inside of you.** Deep down, maybe, but you knew. Maybe that's what got me killed.
> 
> SAM
> 
> No.
> 
> JESS
> 
> I was dead from the moment we said hello.

Of course what Lucifer leaves out is that Jessica is dead because Lucifer’s demons targeted Sam, which is in no way Sam’s fault. Lucifer plays on Sam’s core fears here, underlines and confirms them, speaking aloud Sam’s worst beliefs about himself. This serves Lucifer’s purpose of distracting Sam from accepting that there was nothing inherently wrong with him and that he is responsible for his own actions, not for what was done to him. Lucifer lays the groundwork for the revelation of Sam’s vesselhood, which becomes the reason Sam ultimately seeks to prematurely reconcile with Dean and leave the hard work he sought to do unfinished, playing right into Lucifer’s hands.

Lucifer repeats the idea that stepping out of the never-ending crisis of apocalypse and hunting is “running away” -- cowardly rather than necessary and brave. Facing yourself and what you’ve done and why without deflecting onto others or explaining it away as being due to an inherent taint takes courage.

> JESS   
>  Things are never gonna change with you. Ever.

Lucifer calls Sam’s break from hunting running away from himself, but what Lucifer goads Sam into is doing just that -- running away from actually looking hard and objectively at himself, what he’s done, why, and what he might do about it. By insisting that nothing will ever change -- that there isn’t anything Sam can do to change things in his life, to change how he sees himself, to change how he reacts and his own behavior and choices, Lucifer plays on Sam’s worst fears and yet also lets him off the hook, gives him an out. If he’s inherently a freak, tainted and monstrous, nothing he can do will ever change that and ultimately he’s not responsible for his own choices or for the consequences of those choices. It’s destiny. This is the temptation Lucifer poses.


	19. Chapter 19

Sam sees a news report of possible omens of the apocalypse on the television at the bar where he works and calls Bobby, hoping Bobby will pass the information to a hunter in the area. Despite knowing why Sam has dropped out of the game, Bobby points out that the best hunter in the area is Sam himself. Sam resists this pressure and insists he’s sitting this one out.

A group of hunters shows up at the bar where Sam works and confirms that there is a “major demon block party” going on in the area and ask for his help. When they ask why he turns them down, he says it’s “personal” but doesn’t elaborate. He also doesn’t clue them in on why exactly there’s demon activity in the first place. It’s unclear whether the hunters even know that the apocalypse has started.

One of Sam’s coworkers persists in pushing Sam for details about the “mystery” of who he is and why he’s going by an assumed name.  After attempting to deflect, Sam gives a circumspect answer:

> SAM
> 
> I used to be in business with my brother. Truth is I was pretty good at the job. But... **I made some mistakes, I did some stuff I'm not so proud of, and people got hurt. A lot of people.**
> 
> LINDSEY
> 
> What was your poison?
> 
> SAM
> 
> Sorry?
> 
> LINDSEY
> 
> Come on.  **You were hooked on something, I know the look.**
> 
> LINDSEY pulls a medallion out of her pocket.
> 
> LINDSEY
> 
> Three years sober.
> 
> SAM
> 
> You work in a bar.
> 
> LINDSEY
> 
> So do you. Look, Keith. I don't know you and I'm the last person to be giving advice, but  **I do know that no one has ever done anything so bad that they can't be forgiven. That they can't change** .

Lindsay pegs Sam for a recovering addict, which is both accurate and not even close to the whole story. Would she be so compassionate and encouraging if she knew exactly what he’d done, if she knew he’d murdered a woman for her blood and played a key role in beginning the end of the world? Perhaps she would. But the fact that she doesn’t know anything about the situation is important context for the scene. 

When hurting other people is discussed in the stereotypical addiction/recovery narrative, most of the time the assumption is that hurt was emotional damage, not murder. The show uses this stereotypical narrative pattern in disingenuous ways. The episode is constructed to deliberately de-emphasize the context of the events of the previous season in order to generate sympathy for Sam. And the parallels to Bobby’s blanket absolution speech in the hospital in 5.01 as the correct response to Sam and what he’s done can’t be ignored.

Lindsay’s statement is framed as if it’s supposed to be encouraging to Sam, but it also plays a role in the narrative manipulation I’ve been discussing. The lack of context paired with that stereotypical recovery narrative bestows a gloss that seems like a promising hope of redemption, so the statement floats obliviously over the reality of the events it’s supposedly invoking in a fuzzy, feel-good way. The idea that no one has done anything so bad that it can’t be forgiven ends up replacing the specific reality and impact of those “bad” actions.

The statement is also worded in a way that is mushily unclear: who is doing the forgiving here? What exactly is meant by “forgiveness”? What is potentially being changed? The order is even suspect to me -- certainly “change” should precede and be emphasized over “forgiveness” should it not? The emphasis here is on being forgiven, and change is almost an afterthought; the way the line is phrased makes it sound like change is even predicated on first being forgiven. That’s certainly consistent with how the narrative has approached the matter and with Sam’s behavior towards Dean.

If Lindsay’s line is about self-forgiveness that’s one thing, and the second part of the statement becomes about the possibility that one can always change oneself into a person who wouldn’t repeat the mistakes they’ve made, the harmful actions they’ve done. There’s not any contextual clues to support the idea that it’s about forgiving oneself; but I do think the episode attempts to contrast what Lindsay says with what Lucifer says, by suggesting one can change no matter what one has done in the past. And sometimes real change can only come after one has forgiven oneself. That message by itself is not a manipulative one.

If Lindsay’s line is about being forgiven by others, by people “they” harmed… it’s something else entirely. Because “forgiveness” thus far in the narrative has been defined by Bobby as “not cutting [Sam] out” and “family’s supposed to hurt” -- and that’s it. There is no sense that some acts might legitimately result in estrangement, in ending a relationship, for the sake of the person harmed. There has been no suggestion of  Sam making amends on the personal level rather than the wider, world-saving level.

There has been no hint that forgiveness functions in any way other than no-strings absolution, as “forgive and forget.” Who is to forgive Sam for Nurse Cindy? What exactly does Lindsay’s line about forgiveness mean in the season’s context where to even express anger over what Sam has done, to reject continuing a relationship with him, is framed as demonic?

All of this exists within a context where the show takes care not to ever mention two of the most “bad” things Sam did to individuals in season 4: draining the blood of an innocent woman and the strangulation. The “people who got hurt” from Sam’s circumspect confession are conspicuously absent from the recovery narrative in this episode. Those two events have been erased, so what Sam did that is “so bad” is only partially acknowledged. Only the things he did that allow him his heroic redemption arc are given attention; what heroism is to be had in acknowledging the rest? Sam strangled his brother and murdered a woman before his actions led to the release of Lucifer and the beginning of the apocalypse. “Nothing is bad enough it can’t be forgiven” is stretching the limit, here.

The statement is mushy because it’s from the perspective of someone who hasn’t accepted that people might not forgive them for the things they did under the influence, and that this might be a fair consequence to their actions. It works from the perspective that forgiveness is something everyone inherently deserves no matter what they’ve done, not something that is first and foremost for the person harmed. If it was about forgiving yourself, that is completely necessary and a positive part of the process of recovery. But this line of dialog, with its passive voice, is too ambiguous, especially given the wider context of the season.

I think the intent itself is muddied and that’s reflected in the awkward phrasing. Within this episode and framed by Lucifer!Jess’s insistence that Sam can’t change and is inherently tainted, it’s meant to indicate that Sam can in fact change, that his past isn’t destiny -- which would be an important lesson, if the show were to actually follow through and allow that to happen. But while the show wants the audience to accept that Sam does prove that he can resist the demon blood, that “test” itself is a manipulative one. The message of change is botched, tempered by both the wider context of the season and the result of Lucifer’s scare tactics in this episode. Sam doesn’t complete his quest, so to speak. His recovery, his change, is truncated.

Within the context of the wider story, Lindsay’s statement becomes about the narrative’s insistence that Sam be forgiven (absolved) by both Dean and the audience. Bobby has done so. Only a demon would reject Sam for what he’s done. After all, no one has ever done anything so bad they can’t be forgiven.


	20. Chapter 20

The group of hunters returns to the bar where Sam’s working, devastated by a demon ambush. Furious at Sam for refusing to help them and blaming him for their losses, one of the hunters confronts Sam:

> TIM
> 
> Something you want to tell me, Sam?
> 
> SAM
> 
> What? No.
> 
> TIM
> 
> You sure about that?

Recall that Sam was the one to identify the apocalyptic signs in the first place, which he passed on to Bobby for this group of hunters to deal with. While remaining out of the game is the responsible move on Sam’s part, he did send these hunters into a situation knowing his actions were the major contributor to starting the apocalypse in the first place -- something only Bobby and Dean are aware of. Sam didn’t tell Ellen (or presumably, Rufus or Jo) about his role in the previous episode either, and they too were impacted by the fallout.

What responsibility does Sam have toward his fellow humans, let alone toward the hunters who are directly battling the consequences of his actions? Don’t they deserve to know what happened, why they’re fighting, and decide for themselves whether or not they can trust Sam to fight beside them, or to even tip them off to potentially fatal hunts? I’m not saying Sam did anything wrong in passing off the information here; but the hunters don’t know that, and if they knew what Sam had done they would have every reason not to trust him. Should they be allowed their distrust?

> SAM
> 
> What do you want me to say?
> 
> TIM
> 
> The truth.
> 
> SAM says nothing.
> 
> TIM
> 
> Okay, fine. Let me give you some of my own, then. We go into town, we catch ourselves a demon, we get jumped by ten more. Steve bought it.
> 
> SAM
> 
> I'm sorry.
> 
> TIM
> 
> Saying it twice don't make it so, Sam. You see, this demon, he, uh, he told us things. Crazy things, things about you, Sam.
> 
> SAM
> 
> **Demons lie.**

This scene could have been the kind of reckoning that the show seemed to imply was necessary for Sam, if TPTB had wanted to go that route. Tim and his friends could stand in for all the unseen hunters (as well as characters we know such as Rufus, Ellen and Jo) who are on the front lines fighting to save humanity from Lucifer and the apocalypse. Sam could have taken on responsibility here and faced the consequences his actions have had on others, including facing their distrust, rejection, and feelings of betrayal. He has not proven that he is at all trustworthy after his actions in season 4; he’s just insisted that he is and that everyone should take him at his word. If the narrative had wanted to it could have even suggested that the hunter community might not want Sam playing a role in this fight. He is a very real liability, something he admitted in the last episode. Shouldn’t the community on the front lines of this war have an informed choice in the matter?

That’s not what the show is interested in doing, however. Instead, we get more heavy handed manipulation by making Tim and the other hunters into violent bad guys who threaten an innocent, turning them into narrative equivalents to demon!Bobby.

> TIM
> 
> Yeah. I'm gonna ask you one last time. The truth. Now.
> 
> The door chimes again. REGGIE comes in, hauling LINDSEY.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Just take it easy, okay? Put the knife down.
> 
> REGGIE puts the knife down on the bar but keeps hold of LINDSEY.
> 
> SAM
> 
> It's true. What the demons said, it's all true.

The only reason Sam comes clean with Tim and admits to the truth is because Lindsey is in danger. Not exactly the move of someone taking responsibility for their own actions.

> TIM
> 
> Keep going.
> 
> SAM
> 
> **Why? You gonna hate me any less? Am I gonna hate myself any less? What do you want?**

Notice the repetition of Sam’s manipulative apology style, where he tries to sidestep outright admitting what he’s done and preempts anything the person confronting him might feel or have to say about it in order to insist his own feelings are punishment enough. We first saw this with Dean in 5.01, and we’ll see it a third time in “Fallen Idols.” It’s a pattern. What it isn’t is taking responsibility for his actions or acknowledging how they have harmed another person. It’s all about himself.

Again: what does Sam owe the hunters fighting the war he had a major hand in starting? The show, through Sam’s reactions and by framing the hunters as willing to harm a civilian (not to mention Our Hero) make sure to signal to the audience the conclusion we’re supposed to draw on the matter and where sympathies are supposed to lie. Hint: it’s with the guy who released Lucifer.

> TIM
> 
> I want to hear you say it.
> 
> SAM
> 
> I did it. I started the apocalypse.

Repeating several of the same tactics we saw in 5.01, the episode is intentionally constructed to garner audience sympathy for Sam rather than hold Sam responsible for his actions or illuminate how Sam is attempting to change or atone for them, which was the supposed premise. As with Demon!Bobby, the show makes sure that any character who voices anger at Sam is framed as monstrous. Tim is only allowed to confront Sam about the apocalypse and the direct impact it’s had on him and his friends within the context of assaulting and threatening an innocent woman and then attacking and forcing demon blood on Sam.

Why aren’t the sympathies of the narrative with the people facing the fallout of Sam’s actions? Because we need to restore Sam’s status as hero, and that’s more important than actually dealing with what he did and how it’s impacted anyone else.

> SAM
> 
> What is that?
> 
> TIM
> 
> What do you think it is? It's go juice, Sammy boy.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Get that away from me.
> 
> TIM
> 
> Away from you? No. This is for you. Hell if that demon wasn't right as rain. Down the hatch, son.

And here we reach the core of this episode’s sleight of hand. Following Sam’s conversation with Dean in 5.02, this episode was set up to be Sam’s process of recovery, the beginning of his redemption via facing his own internal demons and overcoming them. It’s supposed to prove he’s trustworthy again. Part of that includes working through the temptation of demon blood. If the show had wanted to do this with integrity there are any number of possible story directions they could have taken, but the heart of it would be Sam facing why he needed the blood and resisting its pull under a situation where he has full agency.

That’s not what we get. Instead, the episode has Sam assaulted and forced to consume blood against his will, complete with a threat to Lindsey’s life if he resists, which he’s not allowed to do. There is no moment similar to the one in the convenience store in the last episode, where Sam, with access to blood and motivation to use his powers, must face and resist temptation. 

> TIM
> 
> Come on, you know you want it, Sam. Just reach out and take it.

Does he want it? This line reads on the surface like something from an After School Special, where someone peer pressures our hero, but we’re not even given that scenario. The episode never gives us a chance to know what Sam would choose under his own power, because the blood is physically forced on him.

So of course Sam heroically spits the blood out and fights off the bad guys, saving Lindsey -- who at least is allowed to look repelled and traumatized by what’s happened.

> SAM
> 
> Go.
> 
> TIM
> 
> Don't think we won't be back.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Don't think I won't be here.

And here we have our hero triumphant. Significantly, the issue of Sam’s blood drinking problem never comes up in the conversations Sam and Dean have around reconciliation in the next episode, and isn’t a factor in “Fallen Idols,” their first case together. Dean is never allowed to ask about it again, despite the fact that they routinely deal with demons in their work and the apocalypse only compounds this contact, despite the fact that last Dean knew, Sam was reacting violently to any questions about it and called himself dangerous.

So how is Sam any less “dangerous” here than he was at the end of the previous episode? He hasn’t been tested at all, he hasn’t been shown to resist blood under his own power, and the very idea that this example can stand in for that test is laughable. The link between his need for the blood and his need to feel powerful (“the big bad wolf”), just underlined in the last episode, is ignored here. Sam’s issues with power and control are dropped completely from the narrative. Which allows him to exert just those things on Dean, as we’ll see.

If the show had taken the opportunity dig into how the demon blood *was* originally forced on Sam via the YED when Sam was an infant, as the first source of what Sam views as his monstrousness, and then contrasted with the choices he has full agency over making, that might have been very powerful for the character. But that would have required that TPTB allow Sam to face and accept full consequences for those choices.

The show *can’t* have Sam face the core source(s) of his feelings of innate monstrousness and his need for power because that could lead naturally to accepting responsibility for the choices he *did* make. Facing and acknowledging those things would prevent Sam from being able to do what he does in “Fallen Idols,” where he makes a mockery of Dean’s need to re-establish trust and pressures Dean into accepting reconciliation on Sam’s terms. None of this would allow the narrative to establish that *Dean* must have a redemption arc in season 5 that involves unconditional support of Sam, “learning to love Sam” and “letting Sam grow up.” None of this would allow Sam to position himself once again as the only one who can do the heroic thing to save the day. Which just so happens to involve drinking a lot of blood.

So instead we get layer upon layer of narrative manipulation.


	21. Chapter 21

On that note, we return to Lucifer’s visitation. It’s unclear from the episode whether the previous Lucifer scenes took place before or after the events with Tim and the demon blood. We were told after the initial scene that Sam arrived at the bar a week prior, so did Sam’s lines about knowing he’s a freak take place before or after his rejection of the forced blood? 

> JESS
> 
> So. This is your life now?  **Think you can just live forever with your head buried in the sand?**
> 
> SAM
> 
> God knows how much I miss you, too. But you're wrong.  **People can change. There is reason for hope.**
> 
> JESS
> 
> No, Sam. There isn't.

This exchange adds to my uncertainty around timing. Sam’s insisting people can change seems to contrast with his earlier comments about knowing he’s a freak, and echo Lindsey’s lines about change and forgiveness, so suggest they happen after those events. 

> SAM
> 
> How can you be so sure?
> 
> LUCIFER
> 
> Because you freed me.

Lucifer is written as a master manipulator. He’s arguing the opposite of Lindsay’s statement that no one has done anything so bad they can’t change. Destiny is everything to Lucifer, which is consistent with his angelic origins. 

In SPN, the concept of “destiny” can be read as a metaphor for  the accumulated conditioning of one’s abusive family background, combined with one’s past choices and experiences thus far. Lucifer is saying that because Sam’s actions released him (and Sam’s actions were driven by that combination just mentioned), change is impossible, there isn’t hope. He’s innately a freak, and that’s why he does what he does. He has no control over his actions, because it’s destiny.

Facing what you aren’t responsible for can be just as terrifying as facing what you *are* responsible for, when it comes to traumatic experiences and abusive childhoods. Lucifer suggests you don’t need to face either, because there’s just something inherently wrong with you. It’s a circular argument, but it’s seductive because it doesn’t require any real risk or work. 

“Free Will” can be read in contrast to this: as the idea that people can change, that there is reason for hope, that you can choose to go against your past choices, experiences, and accumulated conditioning and do things differently in the present moment. You can take responsibility for yourself. Free Will is therefore the antidote to Lucifer’s destiny.

> SAM
> 
> What do you want with me?
> 
> LUCIFER
> 
> Thanks to you, I walk the earth. I want to give you a gift. I want to give you everything.

What Lucifer wants to give Sam is obliteration, which is freedom from the consequences of his actions, freedom from examining the difference between what he’s responsible for and what he isn’t, and freedom from the need to change.

> LUCIFER
> 
> Why do you think you were in that chapel? You're the one, Sam. You're my vessel. My true vessel.

Sam wasn’t in that chapel because of his destiny as Lucifer’s vessel but because of his own choices. In a sense, “destiny” does exist in this universe, because the pressure of the accumulated influence of your background (simplified as what’s been done to you, that you’re not responsible for) and your past choices (what you are responsible for) is a very real thing. But free will also exists alongside it.

> SAM
> 
> No. That'll never happen.
> 
> LUCIFER
> 
> I'm sorry, but it will. I will find you. And when I do, you will let me in. I'm sure of it.
> 
> SAM
> 
> You need my consent.
> 
> LUCIFER
> 
> Of course. I'm an angel.

Ironically, Lucifer needs an act of free will in order to complete his “destiny.” Lucifer can’t force Sam to become his vessel, so he has to convince him there’s never been any other choice.

> SAM
> 
> I will kill myself before letting you in.
> 
> LUCIFER
> 
> I'll just bring you back.

Lucifer doesn’t threaten Sam or anyone else here, so why would TPTB write Sam jumping from “you need my consent” to “I will kill myself before letting you in”? All he has to do is say no, to refuse consent. But he fears Lucifer is right about “destiny” therefore he feels his only other option is suicide. He hasn’t completed the work that it would take for him to know deep down that he isn’t a freak, that there’s nothing inherently dark inside of him, that he’s in control of his actions, that Lucifer has no real influence over him. Here he seems afraid he will say yes to Lucifer as if he’s *not* in control of himself. Otherwise he’d have no fear. Sam is still in the full grip of “destiny.” 

Though Dean’s given explicit textual motivation for saying yes to Michael -- and is shown being tortured and witnessing people he loves tortured in order to coerce his consent -- the show never does explain why Sam would say yes to Lucifer. Lucifer never threatens anyone or makes any attempt to coerce Sam. “The End” asks the audience to just accept he says yes for some unknown reason offscreen. By late season, Sam insists he’s hanging on by a thread, but the show never gives the audience any motivation why he would feel this way. 

The show ignores that failing to give Sam a textual motivation for his fears of saying yes to Lucifer is a major plot hole of the season. But it *has* to ignore that flaw, because correcting it would force the show to do things it’s taken pains to avoid. Because Lucifer represents everything Sam refused to face (or that the show didn’t allow him to face) in these first few episodes. 

The reason Lucifer haunts Sam, the reason Sam fears saying yes all season, is because he still believes Lucifer is right about him. But the show keeps that primarily as subtext, because to explore it in depth would require they give up the narrative manipulations I’ve been describing and allow the character to fully face the consequences of his actions. It would have to bring the murder and the strangulation into focus. It wouldn’t be able to insist that the events of this episode -- where contrary to what the narrative insists has happened, Sam was not put in a situation that actually tested his ability to resist blood or interrogated his need for power -- are evidence that Sam has changed. It would have to question the idea that Sam should play a major role in the fight against Lucifer until he faces these things, because he would rightfully be seen as a dangerous, untrustworthy liability. He certainly shouldn’t be trusted with a plan that hinges on his ability to wrest control from Lucifer after consuming massive amounts of demon blood. Not when the *entire world* is at stake. 

In a way Lucifer is a great metaphor for any conditioned, destructive behavior pattern that needs changing. There is no escape from it, only transformation, true change, until it has no power over you. Free Will. 

> LUCIFER
> 
> Sam. My heart breaks for you. The weight on your shoulders, what you've done, what you still have to do. It is more than anyone could bear. If there was some other way...but there isn't. I will never lie to you. I will never trick you. But you will say yes to me.
> 
> SAM
> 
> You're wrong.
> 
> LUCIFER
> 
> I'm not. I think I know you better than you know yourself.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Why me?
> 
> LUCIFER
> 
> Because it had to be you, Sam. It always had to be you.

That’s the nature of destiny, that’s why it’s comforting. Destiny is the known, and the known might be awful, “more than anyone could bear,” but it’s familiar. And therefore in a strange way less terrifying than Free Will. Free Will is uncertain. There are no promises or guarantees. All of this becomes important subtext in the scene when Sam and Dean do reconcile at the end of the next episode.

Because Lucifer frightens Sam into going back to the known rather than sticking to the unknown, his fledgling exploration of himself outside of hunting and examination of his own actions, of that place inside himself that scares him. Sam chooses destiny, and in that sense Lucifer is correct that he knows Sam better than Sam knows himself, and he is absolutely correct that Sam will say yes to him. But it’s not because “it always had to be” Sam. It’s because Sam runs away from himself. Sam flees Free Will.


	22. Chapter 22

Meanwhile, Castiel tracks Dean down and asks for his help getting information from the Archangel Raphael on God’s whereabouts. Dean and Cas trap Raphael in a ring of holy fire and question him. What I find interesting about this scene is how a) Dean represents the viewpoint of Free Will in contrast to Sam’s feeling trapped by Destiny, and b) while separated from Sam, Dean places the responsibility for the apocalypse squarely with the angels instead of taking on any blame for himself.

> RAPHAEL
> 
> Careful. That's my Father you're talking about, boy.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Yeah, who would be so proud to know  **His sons started the frigging apocalypse** .
> 
> RAPHAEL
> 
> Who ran off and disappeared. Who left no instructions and a world to run.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Daddy ran away and disappeared. He didn't happen to work for the post office, did He?
> 
> RAPHAEL
> 
> This is funny to you? You're living in a godless universe.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> And?  **What, you and the other kids just decided to throw an apocalypse while He was gone?**

Dean calls Raphael and the angels out for childishly trashing the house while Dad is away. When you consider Dean’s history of being forced into hyper-responsibility from a young age, his evaluation of the angels here makes a lot of sense. After all, he didn’t have the luxury of throwing a temper tantrum and burning everything down when abandoned as a kid; he had his and Sam’s survival to worry about.

> RAPHAEL
> 
> We're tired. We just want it to be over. We just want...paradise.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> So, what,  **God dies and makes you the boss and you decide you can do whatever you want?**
> 
> RAPHAEL
> 
> Yes. And whatever we want, we get.

Dean once again cuts through the rationalizing bullshit and states flat out the ugly truth of what’s going on in a situation. The angels don’t see humanity as something they’re responsible for looking after in their father’s absence; instead they behave like spoiled children. Lucifer’s rebellion was emblematic of this viewpoint: the only difference is the other angels waited until God was absent (and therefore they wouldn’t be punished) to air the same views.

From what we’ve seen of God in season 11, he never bothered to instill much sense of responsibility in his older children towards his creation, just demanded they bow to humanity and then abdicated any further responsibility for what happened due to his negligence. This after creating or allowing a brutally hierarchical angelic culture where any hint of free will was severely punished. Without an authority telling them what to do, the angels default to their idea of Destiny, which is the apocalypse. Free will was too terrifying, therefore they decide to destroy everything in favor of the comfort of heaven, where nothing ever changes -- Destiny made a place, just the same as Hell.

Having learned that God appears to be either absent or dead, Dean tries to reassure Cas:

> DEAN
> 
> Look, I'll be the first to tell you that this little crusade of yours is nuts, but I do know a little something about missing fathers.
> 
> CASTIEL
> 
> What do you mean?
> 
> DEAN
> 
> I mean there were times when I was looking for my dad when all logic said that he was dead, but I knew in my heart he was still alive. Who cares what some ninja turtle says, Cas, what do you believe?
> 
> CASTIEL
> 
> I believe he's out there.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Good. Then go find him.

This too is Dean advocating for Free Will: he counters Raphael’s assertion that God is dead and that the apocalypse is the only alternative by encouraging Cas to trust his own perceptions despite what Dean himself might even think about the matter. To embrace the unknown rather than accept “destiny.”

> CASTIEL
> 
> What about you?
> 
> DEAN
> 
> What about me? I don't know. Honestly, I'm good. I can't believe I'm saying that, but I am, I'm really good.
> 
> CASTIEL
> 
> Even without your brother?
> 
> DEAN
> 
> **Especially without my brother.** I mean, **I spent so much time worrying about the son of a bitch.** I mean, I've had more fun with you in the past twenty-four hours than I've had with Sam in years, and you're not that much fun. It's funny, you know, **I've been so chained to my family** , but now that I'm alone, hell, I'm happy.
> 
> DEAN looks over; the shotgun seat is empty. His smile falters.

Here Dean expresses the profound relief and underlying guilt and confusion that comes when one has escaped the stress of dealing with a toxic situation. He barely starts to articulate how chained he feels to his family, how his sense of responsibility feels oppressive. I don’t think he’s straightforwardly happy, but comparatively so. What he is feeling is a tentative freedom from that sense of responsibility for Sam -- both in the childhood sense of responsibility for Sam’s wellbeing and safety, and in the more recent sense of responsibility for Sam’s actions and for the fallout of Sam’s behavior that we saw in season 4 and in 5.02 when Dean was having to worry about both the case and about Sam’s drinking blood, as well as his own safety *from* Sam.

However, this is a dangerous betrayal of the show’s bottom line, of the myth of the love story of Sam and Dean, of the dysfunctional rule that family comes first before everything, that family is supposed to hurt. And therefore it has to be nipped in the bud. Dean’s attempt to maintain this new-found freedom is met with the narrative cudgel of “The End.” When you look at it closely, it appears the only reason the narrative allows this tentative sense of the possibility of freedom for Dean in this episode is to prove that it’s the wrong choice, that by making that choice Dean would literally be responsible for the end of the world.

And in a sense he would. If he didn’t reconcile with Sam, the core premise of the show would be destroyed.

 


	23. Chapter 23

In the next episode (“The End”), Sam calls Dean late at night, waking him up to tell him about Lucifer’s visit. Most likely Sam called immediately after his conversation with Lucifer in the last episode. Sam is shown driving -- which makes me wonder if he was on his way to rejoin Dean as he called. 

> DEAN
> 
> So, you're his vessel, huh? Lucifer's wearing you to the prom?
> 
> SAM
> 
> That's what he said.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Just when you thought you were out, they pull you back in, huh, Sammy?
> 
> SAM
> 
> **So, that's it? That's your response?**
> 
> DEAN
> 
> What are you looking for?
> 
> SAM
> 
> I don't know.  **A—a little panic? Maybe?**
> 
> DEAN
> 
> I guess I'm a little numb to the earth-shattering revelations at this point.

Dean doesn’t react the way Sam expects him to. He doesn’t share Sam’s panic and he doesn’t seem surprised. What Dean says reflects his weariness over worrying about Sam, the absence of which he just mentioned feeling relief over in the previous episode. After a year of lies, betrayal, and strangulation, where Bobby berated him for not saving his brother, Sam’s actions led to Lucifer’s release, and everyone blamed Dean for all of the above, what’s one more piece of bad news? 

The other point is that Dean isn’t playing his role here:

> SAM
> 
> What are  **we** gonna do about it?
> 
> DEAN
> 
> What do  **you** want to do about it?

Sam frames the problem as a mutual one. Dean counters by removing that frame and sending the problem back into Sam’s lap -- what is *Sam* going to do about it? Dean doesn’t take the bait to resume his family role, he doesn’t take responsibility for Sam or Sam’s problems. 

On another level, he probably knows full well what becomes obvious in the next passage: that Sam has already decided what he wants to do. Sam appearing to consult Dean before making a mutual decision is only lip service, and if you’re watching closely this is one of his major behavior patterns. This is one lesson Dean learned from seasons 4-5, when questioning Sam or disagreeing with Sam’s plans got him lied to and physically attacked and ultimately no matter what he does he’s held responsible for Sam’s actions.  By reframing Sam’s question back to what  *Sam* wants to do, Dean punctures the illusion that Sam actually wants his opinion on the matter or that Dean has any influence at all over what Sam’s going to insist on doing. This pattern, Dean shifting from Sam’s “we” to “you,” shows up again in “Fallen Idols.” 

Because as Dean implied, Sam has already decided on his solution to the problem:

> SAM
> 
> I want back in, for starters.

Note that Sam doesn’t ask Dean whether Dean *wants* to join back up with Sam, doesn’t appear to consider that Dean might choose differently. Sam was the one who decided on the separation, therefore Sam is the one who decides when that separation ends. Sam doesn’t seem to have heard what Dean said in the scene at the picnic table at all. Because the important thing was what Sam had decided to do, not that Dean agreed to it for his own reasons. 

Sam could re-enter the hunt without rejoining Dean. He doesn’t need to be partnered with Dean to go after Lucifer. Keep in mind that what Sam wants happens to be what the narrative wants the audience to desire beyond what logic would tell us should happen here: the brother bond restored. 

Sam makes no reference to why they separated in the first place or any changes he’s made since then. Last Dean knew, Sam said he was dangerous and acknowledged that Dean didn’t trust him. Here Sam just assumes Dean’s trust as a given because Sam’s decided he’s now trustworthy. Given that context the gap between how these conversations around reconciliation should go if they were honest and how they are written to happen is telling, and furthers the manipulative narrative around the aftermath of Sam’s actions and how they are supposed to be seen by the audience.  The narrative relies on the audience’s desire to see the breach healed in order to succeed at its refusal to address the issues that caused that breach in the first place.

> DEAN
> 
> Sam—
> 
> SAM
> 
> I mean it. I am sick of being a puppet to these sons of bitches. I'm gonna hunt him down, Dean.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Oh, so, we're back to revenge, then, are we? Yeah, 'cause that worked out so well last time.

As with other examples we’ve seen, Dean is allowed to protest, to state the obvious, in order to be proven wrong. This conversation is meant to set up the problem that the rest of the episode solves, introducing the theme of Dean’s redemption for his failings in season 4. Therefore it’s not about viewing Dean’s doubts and distrust and desire to remain separate from Sam as legitimate, but as wrongs to be righted.

While Sam has every reason to feel anger over feeling like a puppet to the forces that want to use him, this insistence that he’s going to “hunt [Lucifer] down” as a reaction to what happened is another sign of his avoidance of the issues in the last episode. 

> SAM
> 
> Not revenge. Redemption.

The narrative asks the audience to swallow this statement at face value without giving any sign of what Sam intends to do differently, despite his previous angry statement that sounds exactly like a desire for revenge. What is the difference between “hunting down” Lucifer for revenge and “hunting down” Lucifer for redemption? The show never bothers to make that clear. What it looks like to me is that Sam had no intention of thinking of it as redemption at all -- that he meant exactly that he’d hunt down Lucifer for revenge the way he hunted down Lilith -- until Dean called him out on repeating his behavior from season 4. So then Sam had to prove Dean wrong by insisting he didn’t mean revenge in the first place. The fact he only makes a semantic argument is telling, because he has no significant difference in mind for how it will work in reality. 

Sam’s power struggle with Lucifer is more about proving himself than about atoning for his prior actions. It’s not about redemption at all, unless it’s about redeeming Sam’s view of himself as able to “beat” Lucifer in order to prove he’s not inherently tainted. The problem is Sam doesn’t need to defeat Lucifer in a battle of wills, because he was never tainted to begin with and the problem was his own choices all along. 

By falling for the temptation to prove he can control Lucifer instead of realizing Lucifer never had any control over him in the first place, Sam endangers all of humanity. Which would make a great story, if the show was honest about what story it was telling. Instead the narrative conflates the fight to redeem Sam’s self-image with the fight to save the world. I guess that’s what we’re supposed to take away from Sam’s correcting Dean’s evaluation that he wants revenge to insisting he’s looking for redemption. We’re not given any other explanation.

The problem is that if Sam *had* actually faced any of the issues the show implies he did in the previous episode, this conversation wouldn’t be happening the way it does. This episode certainly wouldn’t be framed as a lesson *Dean* needs to learn. 

In fact, what we’re given in “The End” and “Fallen Idols” is Dean “learning” more about what *he’s* supposedly responsible for changing in himself and in his relationship with Sam than we got from Sam in any of the previous episodes, where Sam never considers there’s anything he needs to change about his relationship with Dean. Sam acknowledged that Dean didn’t trust him and admitted he didn’t trust himself, but the only thing that matters is *now* Sam trusts himself again, based on the fact he rejected blood when it was forced on him under threat to an innocent bystander. Whether or not Dean trusts him is immaterial, as we’ll see in “Fallen Idols.” Dean is expected to fall in line or be cast as the one in the wrong. If it wasn’t for how all of this works structurally, I would chalk it up to consistent characterization. But every one of these moments also works together to intentionally lead the audience in a specific direction.

Notably, Dean doesn’t ask Sam what he means by the distinction between revenge and redemption, either:

> DEAN
> 
> So, what, you're just gonna walk back in and we're gonna be the dynamic duo again?
> 
> SAM
> 
> Look, Dean, I can do this. I can. I'm gonna prove it to you.

Dean expresses as much doubt and resistance to the idea of reconciling as the narrative allows, and Sam doesn’t address Dean’s question at all. Just impatiently insists that he “can do this” and is going to “prove it” -- he can do what? And prove what? Dean isn’t allowed to ask these questions, to ask any specifics about how they’re gonna be “the dynamic duo” in the aftermath of everything that’s happened, in the absence of any sign of change from Sam. Dean is only allowed to dance around the fact that Sam hasn’t addressed any of the issues that caused the separation in the first place, because as far as we know Sam hasn’t mentioned the blood issue at all to Dean. He hasn’t addressed the way he got physically violent with Dean for even hinting at distrust. Instead it’s all about how Sam is going to prove himself, but not what it would mean to be held accountable.

The next section is where this episode derails from what could have been a conversation about what Sam means by “I can do this, I’m gonna prove it to you” or what Dean needs from a separation or his terms for a reconciliation. Instead, out of nowhere, it becomes about Sam and Dean being used against each other as justification for continuing the separation. You could argue that it’s in character of Dean to avoid admitting to Sam how relieved he felt to be on his own, but all of this plays into the narrative’s desire to teach Dean a lesson in this episode. It sets the stage for Dean’s later “revelation” that he and Sam are better together (no matter what), that they “keep each other human.” It’s only a few degrees away from Bobby’s “family’s supposed to hurt” speech in underlying meaning and intent. Family might hurt, but rejecting family leads to the end of the world.

The episode pulls off this lesson with a clever narrative trick that makes it look like Dean comes to his own free-will driven conclusion that defies what the angels want for him. It’s an act of supposed rebellion that just happens to result in exactly what the show wishes to accomplish: Sam and Dean reconciled with no discussion of Sam making any kind of changes, amends, or suggestion of being held accountable.

> DEAN
> 
> Look, Sam—it doesn't matter—whatever we do. I mean, it turns out that you and me, we're the, uh, the fire and the oil of the Armageddon. You know, on that basis alone, we should just pick a hemisphere. Stay away from each other for good.
> 
> On the surface this is obviously a reference to the fact that Dean is Michael’s vessel and Sam is Lucifer’s. But in the context of the way so many characters have emphasized that Dean is at least partially responsible for Sam’s actions and the start of the apocalypse, this statement takes on a whole new layer of potential meaning. 
> 
> SAM
> 
> Dean, it doesn’t have to be like this. We can fight it.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Yeah, you're right. We can. But not together. We're not stronger when we're together, Sam. I think we're weaker. Because whatever we have between us—love, family, whatever it is—they are always gonna use it against us. And you know that. Yeah, we're better off apart. We got a better chance of dodging Lucifer and Michael and this whole damn thing, if we just go our own ways.

It’s also hard not to see the subtext here that Dean is allowed to frame a permanent separation in terms of preventing Armageddon but not his own personal needs. And then even within the framework allowed, where staying away from one another is for the greater good, the episode goes to great lengths to prove Dean wrong. 

It’s unclear why he’s even bringing this point up at that point in the conversation. Perhaps it’s a reference to Zachariah torturing Sam to coerce Dean into saying yes to Michael, but that’s not obvious from the context. Also, they’re not weaker when they’re together because of how forces might use them against one another. They’re weaker when they’re together because of specific behaviors. And those behaviors are not, contrary to what “Fallen Idols” would have us believe, only Dean’s to change if they want a stronger partnership.


	24. Chapter 24

After speaking to Sam, Dean wakes up in the wasteland of a dystopia five years in the future. Zachariah eventually appears to fill Dean in on why the angels have sent him forward in time:

> ZACHARIAH
> 
> Three days, Dean. Three days to see  **where this course of action takes you.**
> 
> DEAN
> 
> What's that supposed to mean?
> 
> ZACHARIAH
> 
> It means that  **your choices have consequences** . This is what happens to the world if you continue to say "no" to Michael. Have a little look-see.

Zachariah says this jaunt to the future will show Dean what happens to the world if he refuses Michael, but the episode intends the lesson to show Dean what happens to the world because he refused reconciliation with Sam. 

First Sam and Dean’s separation -- initiated by Sam in 5.02 because he was dangerous and a liability to the fight -- is reframed by the episode’s first conversation as Dean’s responsibility for not accepting Sam back when Sam decides it’s time. Despite the fact that Dean openly discussed his relief at being apart from Sam in previous episodes, in this episode Dean’s motivations for continuing the separation are solely linked to his and Sam’s status as vessels for Michael and Lucifer. Thus reframed, the separation is now Dean’s strategy for preventing the final Apocalyptic fight by keeping Michael and Lucifer’s vessels apart and preventing he and Sam from being used against each other. 

Next the show has Zachariah thrust Dean into a dystopian future where Sam has said Yes and Dean has continued to say No, therefore showing Dean’s strategy has backfired. As Zachariah states, the point is for Dean to see the “consequences of his actions.” This works on two levels: Dean sees the consequences of continuing to say no to Michael (Zachariah’s intended lesson); but he also is shown the consequences of continuing the separation from Sam (the narrative’s intended lesson). The narrative cleverly sets up a situation where the only alternative means of preventing this dystopian future is Dean accepting Sam back on Sam’s terms.

In a camp filled with survivors of the Croatoan apocalypse, Dean meets his future self, who fills him in on the fact that he and Sam had been estranged for five years before Sam said yes to Lucifer in Detroit:

> 2014!DEAN:
> 
> Sam didn't die in Detroit. He said 'yes'.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> 'Yes'? Wait. You mean—
> 
> 2014!DEAN
> 
> That's right. The big 'yes'. To the devil. Lucifer's wearing him to the prom.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Why would he do that?
> 
> 2014!DEAN
> 
> **Wish I knew.** But now we don't have a choice. It's in him, and it's not getting out. 

Why did Future!Sam say yes to Lucifer? We don’t know, because Future!Dean doesn’t know, because he wasn’t there. It’s narratively convenient to leave this question unanswered, allowing the focus of the story to remain on Dean learning his lesson about preventing this from happening, instead of on Sam learning why he might be tempted. Because the narrative never directly states Future!Sam’s motivation for saying Yes, it subtly shifts the responsibility for Future!Sam’s choice onto Present!Dean. It accomplishes this shift by implying that it was Future!Dean’s estrangement from Future!Sam -- which by juxtaposition the audience is encouraged to conclude started at the moment in the present timeline where Dean insists he and Sam remain separated -- that really led Future!Sam to accepting Lucifer. Sam’s responsibility for this action is nonexistent.

The show doesn’t directly give Future!Sam’s motivation for saying Yes to Lucifer, but it heavily implies that the separation was the cause, and it subtextually frames that separation as Dean abandoning Sam, and that rejection being reason enough for Sam to give in to Lucifer. It also neatly sidesteps giving any reason at all for present day Sam to say yes to Lucifer either; Future!Sam’s implied motivations (Dean’s abandonment) take the place of exploring any potential reason Present!Sam would do the same. The show never directly comes out and states that Sam saying yes to Lucifer in the future dystopia is Present!Dean’s responsibility to thwart, but the message to the audience and to Present!Dean is loud and clear: by the end of the episode, Dean will accept Sam back with the explanation that they “keep each other human.”

> 2014!DEAN
> 
> When you get back home—you say 'yes'. You hear me? Say 'yes' to Michael.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> That's crazy. If I let him in, then Michael fights the devil. The battle's gonna torch half the planet.
> 
> 2014!DEAN
> 
> Look around you, man. Half the planet's better than no planet, which is what we have now. If I could do it over again, I'd say 'yes' in a heartbeat.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> So why don't you?
> 
> 2014!DEAN
> 
> I've tried! I've shouted 'yes' till I was blue in the face! The angels aren't listening! They just—left—gave up! It's too late for me, but for you—
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Oh, no.  **There's got to be another way.**
> 
> 2014!DEAN
> 
> Yeah, that's what I thought. I was cocky. Never actually thought I'd lose. But I was wrong. Dean. I was wrong. I'm begging you. Say yes. But you won't. 'Cause I didn't. Because that's just not us, is it?

Back up and question why this episode -- with its emphasis on Dean seeing the supposed horrific consequence of *his* choices and actions, on Dean “doing it different” in order to prevent that future -- happens the way it does. “The End” is a fan favorite for good reason, but that just makes it harder to ask why *this* narrative, at *this* point in the season? 

Why not send *Sam* to the dystopian future to see the results of *his* actions, the consequences of *his* choices, both in season 4 and in the present day? After all, the apocalypse is only happening in the first place due to choices made by *Present!Sam,* and Lucifer only has his chosen vessel in the future battle as a result of a choice made by *Future!Sam.* 

Why not use this episode to explore the issues that were glossed over and dropped in 5.03 -- all that unaddressed stuff that makes up the “place that scares” Sam, that drove his actions in season 4: his hubris, his need for power, his desire to feel superior? Why not use this time to explore the ways that Sam needs to change his relationship with his brother, to earn back Dean’s trust? Why precisely does Sam need Dean to “keep him human”? There’s a lot of ways this episode could have been used in order to mitigate the failures of 5.03. Why not explore how Sam “running away from himself” due to his fear of Lucifer being right about him might lead to the very future Sam fears -- Sam saying Yes to Lucifer? In fact, this is exactly what happens at the end of the season. 

None of this happens, though, because 5.03 and 5.04 are intended to shift the need for interpersonal change from Sam onto Dean and give Dean his own arc of “redemption” from the sins of not “reaching” Sam in 4.21, rejecting Sam’s (manipulative) apologies, and not accepting Sam back on Sam’s terms at the episode’s start. It’s meant to solve the problem of the brothers’ separation by coercing Dean to resolve it without requiring any change from Sam, through the threat of dystopia should he refuse Sam’s return. As Kripke said, it’s about teaching Dean to love Sam. It’s a well-written, manipulative mindfuck.

> ZACHARIAH
> 
> The time for tricks is over. Give yourself to Michael. Say yes and we can strike.  **Before Lucifer gets to Sam.** Before billions die.

Note how Zachariah frames the problem as one of Dean preventing Lucifer from getting to Sam -- again with no sense that Sam has any responsibility for or control over the choice to say Yes. Sam’s actions are once again Dean’s responsibility, as if Sam has no agency over himself.

> DEAN
> 
> Nah.
> 
> ZACHARIAH
> 
> 'Nah'? You telling me you haven't learned your lesson?
> 
> DEAN
> 
> **Oh, I've learned a lesson, all right. Just not the one you wanted to teach.**

The neat narrative trick takes place right here: convincing the audience that Dean is heroically rejecting the pressures of the angels to say Yes to Michael -- rejecting their destiny -- in order to embrace his free will and find a way to both thwart the horrific future and resolve the awful dramatic tension of the brothers’ separation. 

All without requiring Sam to confront anything about himself, how he’s treated Dean, or what he needs to change. All responsibility for the brothers’ dynamic has been shifted onto Dean, and this shift will be underlined in the next episode.

The last scene ties up the loose ends complete with Dean apologizing to Sam for refusing a reconciliation earlier:

> DEAN
> 
> Look, man, I'm sorry. I don't know. I'm...whatever I need to be. But I was, uh—wrong.
> 
> SAM
> 
> What made you change your mind?
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Long story. The point is...maybe we are each other's Achilles heel. Maybe they'll find a way to use us against each other, I don't know. I just know we're all we've got. More than that. We keep each other human.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Thank you. Really. Thank you. I won't let you down.

In 4.22, Dean apologized to Sam for saying something that hurt Sam’s feelings after Sam had strangled him, but Sam has never apologized for that strangulation. Back at the end of 5.02, Sam neglected to apologize for any of his behavior including physically assaulting Dean for questioning him about demon blood, but here we have Dean once again apologizing to Sam for his rational reaction to Sam’s behavior. By repeating this pattern, the show emphasizes to the audience that it’s Dean’s reactions in the face of Sam’s behavior are the real issue. 

Dean insisting on the boundary of separation with Sam was the problem, the wrong to be righted. Dean’s explanation here -- that they “keep each other human” -- shows that he learned the lesson. Without Sam, Dean was shown to devolve into a torturer who sacrifices his friends for strategy. Without Dean, Sam says Yes to Lucifer. What choice does this leave Dean, who just last episode was barely starting to unpack his relief at separation from his brother?

Sam says that he won’t let Dean down, but what this means specifically is never addressed. Does it mean changing the way he relates to Dean? As we’ll see, “Fallen Idols” will insist Dean’s the one who needs to change. 


	25. Chapter 25

On the surface “Fallen Idols” appears to be a lightweight, even throw-away episode: the big bad is played by Paris Hilton and the episode is packed full of broad comedy. Certainly it was intended as a bit of comic relief, but scratch the surface and it becomes clear that the episode fulfills another, more important purpose. “Fallen Idols” is carefully constructed to complete the task TPTB have assigned to the first quarter of season 5: it puts the final touches on the shift away from holding Sam accountable for his actions and finally makes explicit the implicit theme that the real problem is Dean. This accomplished, the season can move on to its endgame, Sam’s Heroic Redemption.

The same tactics I’ve described thus far are repeated, working on two different levels: the meta-level structure of the episode itself (the story they've chosen to tell and how they’ve chosen to tell it) as well as the in-universe interactions and behavior of the characters. What we’re shown versus how we’re meant to interpret what we’re shown is vital to understanding how this all works to manipulate the audience away from critically examining what’s actually happened and towards what we’re expected to accept as truth.

The key to pulling this off is the continuation, perhaps the apex, of dropping all context -- even recent history -- into the memory hole. The omissions become as important as what the episode chooses to include, as Sam’s behavior and its direct impact on Dean is once again erased and even the last three episodes are largely ignored. Dean’s behavior and its impact on Sam is presented as the only problem in the relationship. Without these omissions, manipulations, and distortions there’s no way the episode can pull off its mission.

If it was honest about everything that’s happened to this point, what we’ve been shown would gel with what we’re told about what we’re shown. And we can’t have that, because it would require the show look critically at Sam and hold him responsible for his actions. It would require that Sam be the one to make major, specific changes. And as I’ve established, the show throws everything it has at its disposal to make sure that doesn’t happen.

Whether TPTB see things the way they present them or feel they need to do this extensive manipulation for other reasons -- possibly because they flinched away from just how far they’d taken Sam in season 4 and didn’t know how to walk the character back, paired with fallout from intense fandom reaction at the time --  is a question I can’t answer. I suspect the truth involves a little of both. In the end it doesn’t matter; what matters is what they put onscreen and how it operates.

“Fallen Idols” ties up the loose ends in order to set the stage for Sam’s redemption arc, so understanding what it’s doing requires we keep in mind what came before. Before I start an analysis of the meat of the episode itself I’d like to back up and place it into the context the show works so hard to erase, as well as comment on how that erasure is pulled off so smoothly.

Let’s revisit 5.02, “Good Good Y’all.” The events of that episode led the brothers to split up, and they were separated for the following two episodes. Recall that the last time Sam and Dean worked together prior to “Fallen Idols,” Sam behaved recklessly and reacted with resentment, aggression and violence to any hesitations Dean had about his ability to resist demon blood, which culminated in Sam shoving Dean into a wall when Dean questioned him. Consistent with the aftermath of his strangulation of Dean the previous season, Sam never acknowledged let alone apologized for this violence.

Sam initiated the separation because he admitted that Dean didn’t trust him, he didn’t trust himself, and he saw himself as dangerous. The show implied that Sam needed to confront that “place that scares him” that drives his actions. However, in the first episode of the brothers’ separation, “Free to Be You and Me,” the show dropped that exploration in favor of contrasting Sam the hero with a group of hunters who force blood on him and threaten an innocent. Sam was never tested in a situation where he has access to blood, motivation to use it, and full agency over his choice; but the show uses the events of 5.03 to move forward as if he’s proven himself, faced his demons and come out on the other side a different man.

After learning he is Lucifer’s intended vessel, Sam calls Dean demanding to be let “back in” the partnership, which Dean initially resists. He changes his mind after being shown only he can prevent Sam from saying Yes to Lucifer in “The End.” At the conclusion of that episode, Dean calls Sam back and the brothers reconcile. Sam claims he won’t let Dean down, but there is no discussion between them of what that might specifically mean, what concrete actions Sam has taken to prevent the kind of behavior that led to their separation in the first place. Sam does not give any evidence to suggest he is no longer “dangerous” or why he now trusts himself and expects Dean to trust him as well. Instead we’re given a more important goal: hunt down Lucifer, not for “revenge” but for “redemption.” Stopping the apocalypse is the priority, and as we’ll see any lingering problems Dean might have with Sam are in the way.

The two-episode gap between the last time Sam and Dean worked together and their first case after their separation functions in much the same way as the longer gap between the end of season 4 and the start of season 5: the show exploits a gap in viewer attention (three weeks of live viewing time for the audience made up of two hours of eventful episodes, one a breakout fan favorite of the series) to break the connection between the events that caused the separation and the expectations placed on the characters and their behavior when they reconcile.

Look at what Sam told Dean before their separation:

> Thing is, the problem's not the demon blood, not really. I mean, I, what I did, I can't blame the blood or Ruby or...anything. The problem's me. How far I'll go. There's something in me that...scares the hell out of me, Dean. In the last couple of days, I caught another glimpse…

Ask yourself whether the events of 5.03 showed Sam confronting any of this. Ask yourself what exactly has changed between the Sam that spoke these words and the Sam of “Fallen Idols.” The show expects the audience (and Dean) to believe there is a difference, but fails to do any work to demonstrate it. In the end “Fallen Idols” implies that Sam doesn’t *need* to change, because the real problem all along was Dean.

The part of Sam that scares him, the idea that the problem is Sam himself and how far he’ll go, was dropped as soon as the words were spoken. The lack of specific discussion of how Sam has changed since 5.02 is invisible to the audience -- it’s hard to see something that doesn’t happen, the negative space surrounding what we’re given onscreen. Instead, because Sam spit out blood that was physically forced on him under threat of violence, we’re asked to accept that Sam has made some kind of significant change to his behavior. And Dean is expected to accept this as well, despite the fact that we’re not sure whether he’s even aware of those events.

For all we’re shown, with the exception of Lucifer’s visitation, Dean knows nothing about what Sam’s done since they separated. But he’s expected to behave as if Sam has made dramatic personal changes for the better since they worked together last, that Sam has confronted and overcome the issues that led him to his destructive behavior, that he’s proven himself trustworthy. This expectation is underlined by the ambiguous message from 5.03 that there is “nothing so bad that it can’t be forgiven.”

The message to Dean is crystal clear.

Get over it. Accept Sam back, no questions asked. And if you want to prevent things from going to shit again, you’re the one who needs to change.


	26. Chapter 26

“Fallen Idols” begins with Sam and Dean in the Impala, on the road, mid-conversation about a case. This *in media res* technique is used to simultaneously suggest continuity with where we last left the newly reconciled brothers and their relationship while sidestepping all of the context for any remaining problems between them. The episode sets itself up to supposedly resolve those conflicts but leaves out anything it finds inconvenient to acknowledge, anything that gets in the way of the revisionist interpretation of events it champions. As we’ll see, on a meta level it echoes and reinforces Sam’s in-universe behavior.

This opening works on two levels: it’s both awkwardly delivered exposition and establishes the dynamic between Sam and Dean.

> SAM
> 
> —what's with this job?
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Dude suffers a head-on collision in a parked car? I'd say that's worth checking out.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Yeah, definitely, uh, but, uh, we got bigger problems, don't you think?
> 
> DEAN
> 
> I'm sure the apocalypse'll still be there when we get back.
> 
> A pause.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Right, yeah, but I mean, if—if the Colt is really out there somewhere—
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Hey, we've been looking for three weeks, we got bupkis.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Okay. But Dean...I mean, if we're gonna—ice the Devil—
> 
> DEAN
> 
> This is what we're doing! Okay? End of discussion.
> 
> SAM looks away and sighs. A long pause.

Factually, the dialog is meant to fill us in on the background for the episode. Three weeks have passed since the brothers reconciled and they’ve been on a fruitless hunt to find the Colt. At the start of “The End” Dean had been dubious of Sam’s motivations for hunting down Lucifer, but after “The End,” he’s apparently on board. 

However it’s exactly the forced awkwardness of the delivery -- surely Sam knows all this and it’s being presented for the sake of the audience -- that also lays the groundwork to execute the episode’s theme. Divorced from the expository function, the exchange is just *weird.* Why would Sam be asking “what’s up with this case” and then arguing against pursuing it while on the road to the case in question? Did they fail to discuss anything about it until this moment?

Presented without context, the scene doesn’t play the way real people behave. You could view it as a matter of sloppily executed exposition and move on, but I think there’s more going on here. I think the awkward *in media res* beginning uses the missing context to set the scene for how the audience is meant to view the rest of the episode.

In general Sam and Dean’s positions are consistent with how we’ve seen these characters deal with similar situations in the past: Sam tends to insist on pushing on with the season’s major problem despite a lack of any leads, which Dean sees as a pointless waste of time he’d rather occupy feeling useful until new information turns up. This is a regular part of their dynamic, a matter of individual preference.

So how are we meant to understand this scene? How did they get here, how do we make in-universe sense of Sam initiating this conversation now, in the car, on the way to the crime scene? What is the missing context?

One interpretation might be that Dean presented this case to Sam as a fait accompli and accepted no argument to the contrary, in the “my way or the highway” controlling style he occasionally adopts in imitation of their father. Dean decided this is what they’re going to do, so that’s what’s happening. Sam complied despite his objections because he felt Dean wasn’t giving him any choice in the matter, but continues to voice his opinion in the car, hoping Dean will hear him out and change his mind.

Another interpretation might be that after running out of leads and spending three weeks spinning their wheels, Dean found a case and brought it to Sam. Sam objected because it conflicted with his desire to hunt down Lucifer, the whole reason he wanted to end their separation in the first place, but given the lack of other leads Sam reluctantly agreed. Once on the road Sam continues to bring up Lucifer but has no suggestions for what else they can do to find the Colt or any other way to kill the devil, which might signal this argument is an expression of the resentment he feels at spending time on anything that isn’t Lucifer, a problem he takes very personally.

Given past behavior of both characters, the unbiased truth is probably somewhere in the middle.

Due to that *in media res* introduction, the audience doesn’t know which of these scenarios is the accurate one. We only have the present argument to go on, to draw conclusions about how we’re supposed to see the characters. And what are we presented with? Which interpretation does the episode favor?

Like any conversation overheard without context, we’re forced to rely on the tone to form our interpretation.

The way the conversation starts clearly signals that Sam is challenging the validity of the case. “What’s with this job?” isn’t just a neutral opening to provide exposition for the audience, and this is supported when Dean’s answer borders on the defensive -- “I’d say that’s worth checking out.” This exchange immediately plants the idea in the viewer that maybe the job *isn’t* worth checking out if Sam is still challenging it in the car, as well as the idea that Dean has steamrolled him into the case against his better judgement.

Sam’s next question makes an empty gesture at acknowledging the case is “worth checking out” but immediately undermines that idea, suggesting there’s something more important to do instead: “Yeah, definitely, uh, but, uh, we got bigger problems, don't you think?” Is Dean’s case really “worth checking out” if they have “bigger problems”?

Dean’s answer is dismissively flippant and condescending: “I'm sure the apocalypse'll still be there when we get back.” How is the audience supposed to view this? He’s minimizing the *end of the world* and choosing to prioritize a random hunt? This suggests Dean’s judgment is seriously skewed, forcing Sam into the position of trying to steer them back on track to what’s really important, namely saving the world.

Next Sam acts as if he has to hesitantly counter Dean’s bizarre focus on this trivial case, by introducing the idea that they’ve been looking for the Colt. Dean points out that they’ve looked for three weeks with no luck. This is the first hint of context we’ve had in the scene that might support Dean’s choice of this hunt as anything but a misplaced priority; the thing is, the scene has already prompted the viewer to see Dean as irresponsibly ignoring the apocalypse by this point.

Which is emphasized yet again by Sam’s next reply: “Okay. But Dean...I mean, if we're gonna—ice the Devil—” Notice how Sam is framed as having to attempt a reasonable argument with someone who is being unreasonable. Look at the way Sam’s dialog starts, “Yeah, definitely, but--” “Right, yeah, but--” “Okay, but--” Well before Dean actually says anything belligerent, the audience is primed to anticipate his eventual reaction by how Sam is written as someone so hesitantly attempting to give consideration to the other side of a disagreement, contrasted with Dean, who gives nothing in return. 

Sam repeatedly emphasizes the urgency of the apocalypse and gradually escalates talk of killing Lucifer, while attempting to stay reasonable and calm in the face of Dean’s stubborn opposition. Sam’s voice and body language convey the idea that he’s carefully navigating landmines, signalling in advance Dean’s explosion of frustration at being questioned, giving that reaction a feeling of inevitability. So when Dean blows up at Sam’s repeated questions: “This is what we're doing! Okay? End of discussion” it’s no surprise to the audience, and Sam’s long suffering sigh in response is something we’re meant to identify with. He’s only trying to save the world, but his brother is chasing windmills.  

The behavior of both characters looks very different depending on how you interpret that missing context, whatever happened before they got into the car. But the rest of the episode, through its continued omissions and manipulations, encourages a specific reading. The lack of context paired with the tone of this exchange primes the audience to view Dean’s overall behavior as unprovoked, as a problem, and Sam’s as a mature attempt to cope with Dean’s mistreatment.

Keep in mind that under either scenario I described earlier, Sam is perfectly capable of pursuing Lucifer and the Colt without Dean if he feels that’s his priority, just as he didn’t *need* “back in” with Dean at the beginning of “The End.” Sam has left before under similar circumstances, in season 1’s “Scarecrow,” when he chose to go after John rather than join Dean on a monster of the week hunt.

The fact that Sam has made the choice in “Fallen Idols” to go along with a case he feels is a waste of time is rendered invisible in the narrative. Instead, the way the dialog is structured and performed encourages the audience to see it as a matter of Dean forcing Sam into something he doesn’t want to do, that Dean has rejected any valid objections. The odd thing is, the counter argument Sam makes carries little weight. What alternative plan has Sam presented, given it’s been three weeks and they have no leads? What specific action has Dean stopped Sam from taking? What, exactly, would Sam rather be doing?

These questions go unanswered, but the way the scene is presented ensures that the audience sees Sam as the put upon one, as if Dean has unfairly rejected Sam’s ideas and unilaterally made all the decisions, giving Sam no option but to follow him. Setting aside Sam’s demonstrated ability to make his own choices, there’s no denying that this kind of bossiness from Dean is consistent with what we’ve seen in the past. But what the episode does is carefully minimize the context for why Dean might act this way in this specific moment.

After blowing up, Dean catches himself, changes course, and tries to explain his reasoning:

> DEAN
> 
> It's just that this is our first real case, back at it together. You know, I, I think we oughta ease into it, put the training wheels back on.

Whichever interpretation you go with for how Sam and Dean ended up in the car, my bet is this is the first time Dean’s voiced his underlying motivation for taking this case. 

As we saw in the conversation at the start of “The End,” the show only allows Dean to dance around the real issues. Dean circumspectly approaches the core truth that the episode works hard to erase from the audience’s awareness: that he has every reason to feel the need to ease into and exert control over his interactions with Sam, due to Sam’s behavior in the recent past. Behavior Dean (and the audience) has been given no evidence to suggest has in any way been confronted or changed. The last time they worked together, Sam behaved extremely recklessly and got violent with Dean at the mere suggestion of distrust, and that violence was part of an unaddressed pattern that included strangulation. 

What goes unacknowledged is that this erased context likely at least contributed to why Dean reacted the way he did in the car in the first place.

Sam’s desire to hunt Lucifer cannot be so easily separated from everything that happened to set Lucifer free, and how those events impacted Dean. So an interpretation from that perspective might be that Dean was still wary of working with Sam again especially on anything to do with Lucifer, and found a milk run case to test things out. A case that didn’t involve demons, demon blood, or the apocalypse. A case without triggers for Sam’s previous violent behavior towards Dean. But by this point the audience has already been prompted to view anything Dean says with skepticism, and the omission of context works towards supporting that view.

How does Sam react?

> SAM
> 
> So you think I need training wheels.

Despite Dean’s deliberate choice of “we,” Sam takes Dean’s statement as a criticism. His admittedly out of line behavior during their last case together provoked their split in the first place, but that’s been forgotten by Sam and by the episode. Sam is over it, so Dean should be too. 

Sam shows the same kind of knee-jerk defensiveness here as he did when Dean expressed hesitations about him back in “Good God Y’all.” Which given his history of violence, should be seen as a red flag. Sam rejects the very idea that yes, it might be him that needs “training wheels,” or that he might need to do anything to rebuild trust with Dean. Because Sam still does not see anything he did as untrustworthy or any of his past behavior -- even behavior a few episodes ago, the last time he and Dean worked together -- as being relevant to present circumstances. And he sees any mention of it, no matter how circumspect, as an accusation.

His resentment of the very idea that Dean might need to ease into working with him again gives him away. Sam feels there is nothing he needs to change about himself or how he relates to Dean, so any such suggestion is an unfair personal attack. 

> DEAN
> 
> No, 'we'. 'We' need training wheels, you and me. As a team. Okay?

Dean carefully clarifies that he’s proposing a mutual transition. He takes on equal responsibility instead of making the adjustment about Sam’s behavior, which he would have every right to do given the circumstances. But Dean’s motivation -- which may not be a conscious one -- also could be seen as a way to avoid reactions like Sam displayed in “Good God Y’all.” Also by this point every single major character has insisted to Dean that Sam’s actions were his responsibility so it’s not surprising he apparently agrees.

It’s hard not to note that Dean sharing responsibility, repeating that the need for “training wheels” is a mutual one rather than a boundary he’s setting with Sam due to Sam’s behavior, leads to Sam backing down and accepting Dean’s reasoning for the case he just fought so hard against. It also fits with the show’s efforts since the beginning of the season to push the idea that “mistakes were made on both sides.” 

If I’m honest, the whole exchange leads me to favor the scenario where Dean didn’t steamroll Sam into anything, but blew up in the car because Sam kept insisting on passive aggressively and obsessively bringing up Lucifer after he’d agreed to the case, retroactively framing things as if Dean was forcing him into something he didn’t want to do. It fits with Sam’s later manipulative tactics in this episode, but I fully admit this is my bias talking, because due to the missing context we just don’t know.

> DEAN
> 
> Man, I really want this to be a fresh start, you know? For the both of us.

If this exchange had happened in a more neutral narrative, it might be the beginning of a renegotiation of partnership between Sam and Dean -- one that should have happened prior to “Good God Y’all.” A fresh start doesn’t necessarily mean “pretend nothing has happened.” If it’s at all honest, a fresh start should incorporate needed changes and new boundaries after a relationship crisis.  Instead, as we’ll see, the episode shares Sam’s view of what a “fresh start” means: Sam interprets “fresh start” as a clean slate absolving him of all responsibility for his past actions or any need to change his own behavior, and therefore resents any lingering issues Dean has with him as carrying an unfair grudge.


	27. Chapter 27

John’s abusive parenting and how it impacted and formed Sam and Dean’s relationship as children is integral to understanding “Fallen Idols.” Parentification is one aspect of that history of abuse, and this post will explore it in greater depth before I move on, because it underlies the dynamic between Sam and Dean in this episode.

As I’ve mentioned, Sam’s resentment at Dean’s attempt to ease into their return to partnership in “Fallen Idols” is a sign of Sam’s continuing denial of his own actions and the impact they’ve had on his relationship with Dean. In addition, the root of this resentment can be traced back to their childhood. It’s a complicated brew.

One aspect of the relationship between a parentified child and the other siblings in the family is that the siblings resent the child left in charge because that child attempts, out of necessity, to replicate a parent’s limit setting and correction of their behavior.

It’s a double bind for the parentified child, to be resented by their siblings for something they have no choice in and yet live in fear of being reprimanded by the parent over the behavior of the other children. This adoption of the parental roles of disciplinarian and control over the siblings is exactly what’s expected by the abusive parent. We see this in John’s behavior towards Dean, even as adults, when John chastises Dean for failing to tell him about Sam’s visions in season 1. We see hints of this in the way Dean talks about “when Dad got home” after Sam ran away to Flagstaff.

This is the whole reason parentification is utilized in the first place: to fill in for the missing or neglectful parent, and that must by definition include discipline and limit setting, must include control of the other children. Dean is expected not just to protect Sam, but to keep him in line. To do that, Dean must not only rigidly adhere to John’s demands himself, but ensure Sam does as well.  In Dean’s case it’s clear he was blamed and possibly punished for any behavior of Sam’s that John disliked. In addition to whatever happened “when Dad got home” after Sam ran away, we’re shown John lashing out at Dean when he’s frustrated with Sam in season 1. And it’s clear that dynamic was invisible to Sam himself.

A necessity of even the best parenting could be framed as telling a minor child what to do for their own good, though when skillful it’s more about guidance and teaching. What parentification does is create a situation where a child is filling this role with another child. Even if done with utmost skill, it’s bound to cause issues. This dynamic is resented by the siblings. They accurately see the parentified child as lacking the authority of an adult, let alone an adult parent, and often act out in response, testing boundaries, testing the parentified child’s ability to “parent.”

The siblings also resent what they see as the elevation of the parentified child to a position “above” them in the family hierarchy, so that all the siblings are no longer equal. They believe this means the parent prefers the parentified child over them, or that the parentified child is being given special privileges, when what’s happening is abusive and usually damaging to the parentified child.

The parentified child is by definition not mature enough to have the skills or judgement of a good parent and the very presence of parentification itself usually means they don’t have great role models for what good parenting is supposed to look like in the first place. This often results in the parentified child reacting poorly or unskillfully in response to that testing and resentment by their siblings. The parentified child might attempt to imitate the behavior of their parent without the ability to back it up with adult authority, often without understanding that what they’re replicating might be dysfunctional at best. They can attempt to be over-controlling in handling the other children because of the fear of punishment from the parent. I think we also see traces of this at play in “Fallen Idols” from Dean’s side. Even if the parentified child did everything “right” by the standards of good-enough parenting, their siblings might still resent them because of the perceived imbalance in equality. Because they are not, in fact, parents.

It’s a vicious cycle that can be summed up as “you’re not my dad!” and “do what i say because I say so!” Dean doesn’t even have the option of resorting to “I’m telling Dad when he gets home!” as John is absent for extended periods, leaving him without potential recourse to a higher authority, and clearly expects Dean to just handle things without any support. And yet when John dislikes how Dean handles things on his own, he punishes Dean -- as we saw in “Something Wicked” and “Bad Boys.” This undermines what little authority the parentified child might have with their siblings in the first place. Again, think of the way John repeatedly undercuts Dean in front of Sam, putting him in his place even as an adult in season 1, and look at Sam’s reaction to that -- he tends to view it all as a joke. I doubt that’s a new pattern.

Typically the parentified child is seen by siblings as complicit with the parent. Because the parentified child, especially in cases that involve emotional parentification, have been made privy to the concerns of the parent in ways the other siblings have not, they tend to internalize the POV of the parent before they have a chance to develop their own perspectives. The siblings often see the parentified child as allying with the parent in a way that doesn’t accurately reflect the parentified child’s actual experience.

What the siblings (and usually the parentified child) aren’t aware of is that the parentified child was never given a choice over this dynamic. The dynamic ruptures the possibility for true alliance between the siblings with one another against the parent. The parentified child is as isolated as the non-parentified siblings, but in a different way. Often anger from the other children that should be targeted at the parent as the responsible party is instead directed at the parentified child as the parent-surrogate, because the parent isn’t available and the parentified child serves as the “face” of an authority they don’t actually possess, for dynamics they don’t fully understand or have any control over. Look at the way Sam views Dean in season 1 as “daddy’s little soldier.” Look at how Sam reacts when Dean finally tells him what John said about Sam before he died, what John made Dean promise, in season 2. 

Much of the anger and contempt Sam occasionally shows Dean is intimately linked with John’s parentification of Dean, and with how John treated Dean in front of Sam. Probably from an early age, Sam was well aware that though Dean tried to act like his father, he couldn’t match up, which John made a point of emphasizing by reasserting his power and authority by disparaging Dean and putting him in his place. We see this in operation in season 1 as well, when John chastises Dean for his “new tone” when Dean stands up to him.

Judging by “A Very Supernatural Christmas” in season 3, we know from canon that Sam was kept unaware of the supernatural until he was at least age 8 or 9. As seen in “Something Wicked,” John was leaving Dean in charge of Sam from a young age with instructions to shoot first and ask questions later, against threats that only Dean knows are real. We know that at least once John ordered Dean to stay in the motel room for a period of days, and presumably to keep young Sam confined there too. Chances are that wasn’t unusual given the not exactly kid friendly right-off-the-highway location of most motels. 

So in addition to everyday childcare duties, Dean is expected to defend Sam’s life with violence and keep Sam confined and under control, all for reasons he’s not allowed to share with Sam. Dean most likely constantly worried that their father might not return from a job that Sam has no idea has a high rate of fatality. Any anxiety over John’s absence will look overblown to Sam, who doesn’t know the true nature of his father’s job. Given that parentification tends to be invisible to the siblings, how does all of this look to Sam? Wouldn’t it seem like Dean is a totally batshit crazy hypervigilant control freak of a brother?

This is one of the keys to Sam’s hair-trigger resentment of Dean’s (perceived and real) “bossiness” as adults. Dean’s attempts to reign in Sam’s reckless and destructive behavior during season 4 remind Sam of everything he chafed against when they were children, regardless of the vast differences in the two circumstances. Sam is conditioned to minimize any threat Dean sees as Dean overreacting and any disapproval of Sam’s actions as an attempt at dictating Sam’s life, of wielding an illegitimate authority over him. As pushing him around.

In “Fallen Idols,” Dean’s need to rebuild trust with Sam manifests through exerting some sense of control over their partnership via being “bossy” -- replicating aspects of a dynamic that most likely existed at times between them as children, when as the child John left “in charge” of another child under threat of punishment, Dean was expected to dictate to Sam what he could and could not do. Sam responds to that trigger without putting Dean’s present day behavior into the context of current events or how Sam has treated him -- that Dean’s mistrust is a logical consequence of Sam’s actions.

When they were children, most likely Dean attempted to control Sam via preventing him from doing completely mundane things normal to childhood because they didn’t fit in with John’s expectations; as adults, Sam views Dean’s reactions through that lens, no matter how destructive or harmful his own behavior is. Because of their childhood dynamic, Sam views his relationship with Dean as one sided: Dean’s actions negatively impact Sam. Given his reaction in 5.16, Sam was completely oblivious to the fact that his actions as a child could be detrimental to Dean.

As an adult, Sam still does not view the relationship as an equal one where his own actions negatively impact Dean. What’s interesting is that the show often sees the relationship through that same lens, which influences the fandom to see it that way too.

To conclude I’m going to call back to something I wrote earlier in this meta: The fact that this episode focuses exclusively on Dean’s bossiness as the problem and “letting Sam grow up” as the solution to the relationship issues becomes particularly egregious when you place events back into the very recent context of season 4, and keep in mind exactly what Sam did and its impact on Dean.


	28. Chapter 28

The investigation starts out equitable enough. Sam and Dean interview the victim’s friend, wrongfully arrested for the bizarre death. They discover that the car the victim died in is supposedly “Little Bastard” -- James Dean’s car. In order to determine whether the car is the genuine article, Dean climbs underneath to get a rubbing of the engine number, on edge in anticipation of becoming the cursed car’s latest victim. 

Once free of the car, Dean hands the number to Sam:

> DEAN
> 
> Find out who owned it. Not just the last owner, you gotta take it all the way back to nineteen-fifty-five.
> 
> SAM
> 
> That's a lot of research.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Well, I guess I just made your afternoon.

Dean doesn’t usually order Sam around quite so bluntly. And when he does, he normally has another, equally involved task in mind for himself -- splitting the workload at least. That isn’t the case here. 

In the next scene we’re shown Dean flirting with a bartender, shadily misrepresenting himself as a talent agent. He’s clearly been at this all afternoon, has apparently not been working on the case at all since he left Sam with the research. As he orders another beer, his phone rings. It’s Sam, with new information on the killer car. The ambient noise from the bar tips Sam off:

> SAM
> 
> Dean, are you in a bar?
> 
> DEAN
> 
> No, I—I'm—I'm in a restaurant.
> 
> The BARTENDER returns and places DEAN'S beer on the bar.
> 
> BARTENDER
> 
> Here's your beer.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Thanks.
> 
> He takes the beer as the bartender walks away and SAM shakes his head.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> That happens to have a bar.
> 
> SAM
> 
> I've been working my ass off here.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Hey, world's smallest violin, pal, I spent the afternoon up Christine's skirt. I needed a drink.

This scene works on a number of levels. It continues the theme of Dean behaving erratically compared to reasonable, responsible Sam, as well as the idea that Dean has been mistreating Sam since before the start of the case. The text’s intentions for this episode are simple and crystal clear: Dean’s an asshole, Sam’s long-suffering. Sam needs to stand up for himself to Dean, Dean needs to learn to treat Sam right. Sam wanted to kill Lucifer and prevent the apocalypse, Dean apparently wanted to take a vacation.

The only problem is this completely ignores everything that’s happened between Sam and Dean prior to “The End.” It ignores the idea that Dean’s behavior here might indicate he needed a break *from Sam* due to those events. That reading -- that Dean might need time away from Sam on their first case back together -- is admittedly my in-universe interpretation and definitely not intended by the text. But does it fit with what we see onscreen?

Contrary to fanfiction cliches, shoving the entire investigation onto Sam and going to a bar to drink mid-case is unusual behavior for Dean. It’s interesting that Sam doesn’t pick up on that fact, but instead gets immediately pissed off. That fits with the idea that Sam has yet to consider how any of his actions have impacted Dean. Sam seems to see Dean’s behavior in this episode as arising in a vacuum, and he reacts accordingly. And because the episode shares Sam’s view of Dean, the audience is supposed to also view Dean’s trip to the bar as if he’s just inherently a dick who makes a habit of goofing off while his brother works the case, or as if he’s doing this solely to passive aggressively punish Sam. 

So let’s take a look at this scene from a different angle. We can draw some illuminating commonalities between the contexts for the bar scenes in s6’s “You Can’t Handle the Truth” and “Fallen Idols.” As far as I remember, these are the only two scenes of this type we’re shown in canon, and the similarities are striking.

In “You Can’t Handle the Truth,” Dean was struggling with the realization that Sam had stood back and purposefully watched him be turned into a vampire instead of intervening and saving him. He felt forced into inescapable proximity with a Sam who had deliberately allowed violence to be inflicted on him. Sam didn’t see anything wrong with what he’d done, and later tried to argue he knew Dean could handle it and that it was worth the information they’d gained. When Dean expressed fear of Sam to Bobby, Bobby minimized the harm to Dean and emphasized that Dean needed to remain with Sam despite feeling unsafe. These events are written as obvious underlying factors to the scenes where Dean is shown drinking alone mid-case, both in the motel room and a bar, while Sam works. 

Turn back to “Fallen Idols,” keeping in mind the context the episode omits: the last time Dean and Sam worked together Sam got violent with Dean. Sam has never acknowledged that act or the strangulation in season 4, after which Bobby directly shamed Dean into feeling like Sam was his responsibility. The events of “The End” and Sam’s status as Lucifer’s vessel convinced Dean to go against his instincts and team back up with Sam despite the relief he’d expressed at their separation, but now he’s feeling the weight of preventing his brother from saying Yes to Lucifer as well as circumventing that apocalyptic future. 

As far as we’ve seen, Sam has given Dean no cause to think he’s changed since the last time they were together. Instead, Sam acts as if nothing happened, as if there is nothing he needs “training wheels” for in the partnership, and he reacted to the very suggestion as if it was a personal insult. Any time Dean has even hinted there might be consequences to Sam’s past actions, Sam has reacted with immediate, defensive anger if not violence.

We see Dean in life-threatening situations weekly on this show without him “needing a drink” in a bar away from Sam to recover -- what was different about the “Christine” experience?  Is it possible that rather than the scare of “Christine,” Dean might have assigned Sam a time-consuming research task and went for a drink specifically to get away from him, using “Christine” as an excuse? We know that Dean deliberately picked this case in order to ease back into partnership with Sam. Is it possible that rather than suddenly childishly attempting to punish Sam after managing to refrain from doing so in the face of everything that happened up until this point, he’s finding working with Sam again after the separation to be more stressful than he anticipated?

Which seems more likely, given what we know of Dean and his behavior -- that he’s blowing off the case and Sam out of sheer pique, or he has deep-seated reasons that reflect recent history?

The episode refuses to ask these questions. Just assumes the audience will side with Sam’s POV of the situation, where Dean dictates their every move, rejects focus on saving the world in favor of a nothing case, then dumps all the research on Sam and runs off to a bar because he’s just that irresponsible and wants to stick one to Sam.


	29. Chapter 29

Sam’s research determines that the killer car was not in fact “Little Bastard” but a fake. That night, another man dies violently under mysterious circumstances. Sam manages to get a description of Abraham Lincoln out of the victim’s housekeeper by interviewing her in the freshman Spanish he recalls from college. While reviewing video footage from the first crime scene, Dean notices a reflection that appears to be James Dean, leading the brothers to suspect the murders may have been committed by the ghosts of historical figures. 

> DEAN
> 
> So you're saying we've got two super-famous, super-pissed-off ghosts killing their...super-fans?
> 
> SAM
> 
> That's what it looks like.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Well, that is muchos loco.
> 
> SAM
> 
> 'Muy'. Not 'muchos'.

Ask yourself what purpose this little exchange serves. Watch closely how both characters are portrayed, especially in throw away moments like this. Why are these characters are being written this way in this episode in particular, their first case together after the events of “Good God Y’all.” Where are these characterization choices leading the audience? What views do they reinforce?

The brothers question why the famous ghosts are killing people in this particular small town, and not haunting the places where they died. Sam discovers the town boasts a wax museum and they go to check it out. Among the famous wax effigies is Abraham Lincoln, as well as Gandhi.

> DEAN
> 
> Dude, he's short.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Hey. G andhi was a great man.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Yeah, for a Smurf.

Not unusual behavior for Dean, but keep in mind the frequency of this type of moment during the episode. Pay attention to the dynamics of these asides and what they are suggesting about the two characters.

Later that night, in another awkward, sloppy scene, Sam is shown out at the Impala. He opens the trunk, loads a single shotgun with rock salt, then replaces it in the trunk before returning to the motel room. The purpose of this brief, weird moment is to set up the next scene, where Sam walks in on Dean while he’s on the phone with Bobby.

Dean’s earlier behavior is put into some kind of context -- barely -- by this scene, but the episode’s omissions serve to make him look like he’s holding a petty, unearned grudge against Sam, that his behavior is therefore uncalled for.

> DEAN is talking on his cell phone, facing away from the door.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Yeah, Abraham Lincoln and James Dean, can you believe that? ...Why so kill-crazy?  **Ah, maybe the apocalypse has got 'em all hot and bothered. Yeah, well, we all know whose fault that is. ...Well I'm sorry, but it's true.**
> 
> SAM frowns, then pushes the door shut, causing DEAN to spin around.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> I'll call you later. Bye.
> 
> He hangs up and turns to SAM.
> 
> SAM
> 
> What's going on?
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Did you get the trunk packed up?

A few things to note. First, the scene begins explicitly from Sam’s point of view and encourages the audience to stay there. We enter the room with Sam, we see Dean facing away from the door talking on the phone, we overhear Dean’s words like a slap in the face.

Second, it’s clear from Dean’s question that we’re meant to believe Dean ordered Sam to pack the trunk, to push him around more or possibly so he could call Bobby, or both. 

This scene also has similarities to the Soulless Sam episodes of season 6, when Dean surreptitiously complained about Sam to Bobby while Sam was just outside the room.  Those episodes post-date this one, but paired with the disastrous scene in s4 after the strangulation, it shows an in-universe pattern of Dean relying on Bobby to emotionally process his issues with Sam, particularly when he feels unsafe around Sam.

> SAM
> 
> Yeah, trunk's packed. Who was on the phone?
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Bobby.
> 
> SAM
> 
> And?
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Nothing.
> 
> SAM
> 
> So we're just gonna pretend I didn't hear what I just heard?

Sam is meant to be seen as standing up for himself here. Dean isn’t acting ashamed he was overheard, so Sam tries to provoke the expected response. 

However, step outside of Sam’s POV and notice how insulted he is by Dean’s blunt statement that the apocalypse is Sam’s fault. Why, exactly, is Sam upset by this? Does this look like the reaction of a person who has taken responsibility for what he’s done? Dean can’t state the obvious in a private conversation to Bobby -- the only other person who knows what happened -- without it being seen as wronging Sam?

Was Dean’s remark helpful in the moment? Probably not. It was clearly Dean blowing off steam. But it is another piece of evidence to suggest that Dean is finding working with Sam again to be stressful. It’s just that the episode is uninterested in the audience asking why this might be. Instead it’s intended as more evidence that Dean is harboring a toxic, unearned grudge that’s affecting his ability to work professionally with Sam. That Dean is suddenly lashing out at Sam after agreeing to work with him again. Most importantly, Dean is failing to forgive and forget.

Dean’s response to Bobby’s side of the phone call -- “Well, I’m sorry, but it’s true” -- tells the audience that though offscreen, Bobby objected to Dean blaming Sam for the apocalypse. Even when we only have Dean’s reaction to the conversation to go on, Bobby signals to Dean and the audience the proper way to treat Sam. And that is to never hold Sam responsible for what’s happening, especially not with a hint of lingering resentment or blame. 

Only Sam is allowed to acknowledge what he did, and then only in very specific circumstances. Anyone blaming Sam for what happened or showing any anger about it has been framed by the narrative as demonic, like demon!Bobby in 5.01 or the hunters in 5.03. 

And now this episode puts Dean in its sights: it’s structured to finally allow Dean to express anger at Sam for what Sam’s done, but only in a way that proves Dean is mistreating Sam and needs to be corrected.

> DEAN
> 
> Pretend or don't pretend. Whatever floats your boat.

Contrary to Sam’s forced teaming with that “so we’re just gonna pretend” remark, Dean wasn’t pretending anything. There’s a difference between Dean pretending Sam didn’t hear his statement and Dean *not caring* Sam heard it. And with Dean’s reply, it’s clear he flat out doesn’t care, and is calling out Sam’s characterization of the situation to boot. 

Sam passive aggressively puts the responsibility for his own reaction to what he overheard onto Dean. Instead of engaging directly with what’s bothering him about what he heard, he’s attempting to force Dean to take it back, to feel ashamed. Sam’s passive aggression often manifests in a way that the show (and fandom) appear to see as standing up for himself, but usually it boils down to Sam attempting to make Dean responsible for Sam’s feelings or choices in some way.

What’s interesting to me is the change in Dean we see here, compared to where he was at the beginning of the season. We saw a hint of this change at the end of “Good God Y’all,” when Dean agreed for his own reasons with Sam’s suggestion they separate, and didn’t attempt to make Sam feel better about any of it; and later during their phone conversation at the beginning of “The End,” when Sam got upset at Dean’s lack of reaction to the news about Lucifer. It’s been a gradual progression, and here he’s even more overt about not cooperating with the script. What Dean’s saying is that Sam is responsible for Sam’s emotions, that Sam’s reaction to what he overheard isn’t Dean’s problem. 

Dean both doesn’t care that Sam overheard -- it was a private conversation between he and Bobby -- and doesn’t care *what* Sam overheard. He doesn’t try to cover it up, make excuses, or manage Sam’s feelings. Which, of course, is supposed to make him look bad, because we’re viewing the scene via Sam’s perspective.

This is new behavior. In the scenes prior to this that dealt with what Sam did, Dean hasn’t been nearly as blunt about it. In season 4 he was desperate to convince Sam that what he was doing was destructive, to save Sam from himself. In the aftermath of the strangulation, Dean only expressed his feelings about Sam to Bobby, not directly to Sam -- instead he apologized to Sam for reacting to being strangled by echoing the words of their father. Back in 5.01, Dean was trying to gloss over what had happened, until he broke down emotionally to Sam, sharing how hurt he was and how he felt it had destroyed their relationship. In 5.02, he barely edged up to challenging Sam’s ability to resist demon blood. In 5.02 and 5.03 he talked about the burden of feeling responsible for Sam’s actions. That’s all he’s said about the events of season 4, when he isn’t insisting that he and Sam share responsibility equally. 

He’s never once spoken about what Sam did directly to Sam with anger or resentment. 

**Think about the magnitude of what Sam’s done, both to Dean personally and to the world. Then look at the sum total of how Dean has treated Sam in the aftermath, and tell me anything we’ve seen from Dean in this episode deserves this response from Sam or the show.**

> SAM
> 
> This was supposed to be a fresh start, Dean.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Well, this is about as fresh as it gets. Now are we going or not?

Sam makes one more attempt to prod Dean into the reaction he’s looking for, and Dean once again stands his ground. Dean originally linked “training wheels” -- what he’ll later call trust building -- to the “fresh start,” but Sam repeatedly ignores that in favor of insisting “fresh start” means “clean slate” for himself. By erasing this relationship between the “fresh start” with Dean’s deliberate attempt to ease he and Sam into working together again, Sam and the narrative use that “fresh start” as a cudgel, in order to insist that Dean is no longer allowed to have or express any negative feelings about anything that happened, not even in a private conversation. It’s terrifically manipulative, but works in such subtle ways that if you’re not vigilant about keeping the entire context of what’s happened prior to this episode in mind, it’s easy to see Dean’s behavior as out of line. Because that’s what the episode wants you to see.

So what’s new, what’s changed to lead to this behavior from Dean?

Here’s where that omitted context comes to play again. It’s only after he’s been separated from Sam that Dean starts to behave this way. Prior to the separation he showed little anger and barely voiced hesitations. The most he did, after Sam’s repeated prompting, was tell Sam how he devastated he felt at the end of 5.01, which was met with Sam’s eyeroll. But now that he’s had time away from Sam, some of Dean’s anger bubbles out. He’s less willing to hide how he feels or smooth everything over or tell Sam it’s okay the way he was repeatedly doing in 5.01. He’s not being as careful around Sam the way he was in 5.02. It’s a delayed reaction to what happened in s4 and the start of s5, and it’s only possible, I believe, because Dean got time away from Sam. And I can’t discount the possibility that some of it is repressed frustration and anger at feeling forced back together with Sam due to what he sees as the responsibility put on him by the revelations of “The End.”


	30. Chapter 30

That night Sam and Dean return to the wax museum in order to burn the objects that belonged to the famous ghosts. Dean, who for several scenes has been alternating between comic antics and control freak, has swung back to the jokester, donning Lincoln’s stovepipe hat, one of the artifacts they’ve come to destroy:

> DEAN
> 
> Check it out. Four score and seven years ago, I had a funny hat.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Dean.
> 
> SAM sighs and puts the trash can down, holding his hand out for the hat.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> We can't have any fun with this?
> 
> DEAN takes the hat off and tosses it into the trash can.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Let's just torch the objects, torch the ghosts, get outta here. Okay?

Sam is professional, Dean is goofing off. Sam corrects Dean’s inappropriate behavior. Dean pushes back a little, but he quickly complies. This isn’t a new dynamic for them -- Sam’s usually the straight man to Dean’s antics, and often reacts with long suffering impatience and disapproval -- but this instance just adds to the pattern of characterization and how it contributes to the audience buying into the larger manipulations about who is being wronged and who needs to change. When it comes to the serious matters facing the brothers’ relationship in this episode, is the audience meant to side with the jerk who’s behaving like a child or the adult in the partnership?

The wax Gandhi comes alive and attacks Sam. The episode does allow Sam a comical moment of his own, but it’s the only time that happens. Dean burns the real Gandhi’s glasses and the killer Gandhi vanishes. Given the pattern of this case, the fact that Gandhi attacked Sam means that Sam is a big fan.

Of all the historical figures to pick to be Sam’s hero, the show went with Gandhi. Again, this is a choice that works on multiple levels. On the most obvious level, Gandhi was selected for the comedy value of a man known for nonviolence physically attacking one of our heroes, whose very raison d’etre is violence. Gandhi unexpectedly leaps onto Sam’s back and attempts to bite him. There’s the slapstick in the height difference between the wax Gandhi and Sam. And of course it sets up stupid jokes for Dean.

But how does Sam’s hero being a pacifist known for nonviolent resistance to oppression fit with the other themes in the episode, and with the direction of the season as a whole? 

It asks the audience to draw subtextual comparisons between Sam and Gandhi. To read the scenes between Sam and Dean in specific ways. Sam should be seen as maturely standing up to Dean’s juvenile maltreatment, reacting with firm nonviolence to Dean’s emotional violence. It directs the audience away from deconstructing Sam’s manipulative approach to Dean and their partnership in the episode and towards viewing Dean as the oppressor. Especially when Sam’s veneration of the revered man is paired with Dean’s offensive, joking dismissal of him.

To force this comparison, we’re asked to forget about the Sam who murdered a woman for her blood, extensively lied to everyone who trusted him, and when confronted about his behavior, started a fist fight that ended in him strangling his brother. The Sam who literally started the end of the world. The Sam who was still exhibiting these violent patterns the last time he worked with Dean. The Sam who insists he’s hunting down Lucifer for redemption, not revenge, but never bothers to articulate the difference.

Gandhi is doing some heavy symbolic lifting for this narrative. Especially when we find out Dean’s hero is John. Those story choices act in subtle ways to illuminate everything the episode wants you to conclude about these characters and who needs to change. As @nottherealdean commented to me, “the contrast puts Sam on this grand, altruist scale while Dean's still idolizing his shitty dad. “

The next scene finds the brothers back in the motel room. Dean is packing his things, apparently in a rush.

> DEAN
> 
> Ready to blow this joint?
> 
> SAM
> 
> Dean, didn't it strike you as strange the way Gandhi just...vanished?
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Strange how?
> 
> SAM
> 
> No screaming, no big flame-out, I mean, that isn't the way ghosts usually go.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Still, I torched, he vanished.

If it was up to Dean they would have left the case unsolved at the risk of more civilian deaths, because he failed to catch a key anomaly and just assumes the problem was ghosts when something else is going on. Something else that Sam is the one to notice. In and of itself, that’s not an issue. Overall the show is even handed about who makes these kinds of connections, who makes mistakes or overlooks a clue, and the brothers go back and forth about cases like this all the time. But the scene is also consistent with the general thrust of the characterizations in this episode, emphasizing Sam as responsible and Dean as the opposite.

> SAM
> 
> Also, I feel like he was...trying to take a bite out of me.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> A bite?
> 
> SAM
> 
> Yeah, like he was hungry. But the thing is, Gandhi—or, the real Gandhi—he was a—
> 
> DEAN
> 
> A what?
> 
> SAM hesitates.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Spit it out.
> 
> SAM
> 
> He was a fruitarian.
> 
> DEAN stares at SAM, then laughs.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Let me get this straight. Your, uh, ultimate hero was not only a short man in diapers, but he was also a fruitarian?
> 
> SAM
> 
> That's not the point.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> That is good. That is—even for you, that is good.

Again, look at how this scene is choosing to portray the characters. Dean is an unenlightened buffoon, reducing one of the world’s most respected historical figures to “a short man in diapers.” Dean goes further, mocking Sam for his choice of hero. Dean ribbing Sam in ways that question Sam’s masculinity aren’t unusual, but here it also serves to underline that favorable comparison we’re asked to make between Sam and Gandhi, and setting Dean in opposition, therefore in the role of oppressor. 

> SAM
> 
> Look, I'm just saying, I'm not so sure this thing is over.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> It was a ghost. It was a weirdly super-charged fruitarian ghost, but it was still a ghost. Now let's go.

Sam is repeatedly portrayed as the thoughtful, rational one, the better hunter, the responsible party; compared to Dean as the bossy, arrogant, sloppy, irresponsible comic relief. It’s the same tactic used in 5.03, where in order to restore Sam’s status as hero the hunters who opposed him had to be demonized. 

The show’s thumb is consistently on the scale when it comes to how it “redeems” Sam. It can’t do so through aboveboard storytelling. It can’t present the brothers honestly in this episode, because such a portrayal would require an open discussion of what happened, why, and how *Sam* is responsible for changing and earning back *Dean’s* trust. Instead it forces a comparison between Sam and *Gandhi* of all people, then parallels Dean with their abusive father, echoing the forced comparison at the end of season 4.

> SAM
> 
> So first you drag me into town, and now you're dragging me back out.

Yes, Dean is being bossy and controlling. Sam has valid complaints there, and in a more honest season that would be worth exploring further. But this is not an honest season, and we can’t have that discussion without the larger context. Without it, this entire episode is a derailing tactic, *preventing* any fair discussion of the true dynamic between the brothers. 

This is the reason I have chosen not to get caught up in a longer discussion of what Dean’s doing wrong in this episode: that’s exactly the episode’s intention. In fact, that’s its primary manipulative tactic: hold up Dean’s behavior in this one episode as the central problem while continuing to ignore Sam’s overall pattern of behavior over a much longer period, then ultimately *blaming* that pattern on Dean. So while I acknowledge that Dean’s controlling approach is the wrong one to take, I’m going to focus on that larger context the episode erases.

There’s also the point that fandom has honed determining what Dean’s doing “wrong” in any given situation to an art form. The focus of most meta in this fandom -- even that of Deanfans -- has traditionally been on Dean’s behavior, why Dean does what he does whether positive or negative. Fandom replicates the equation that goes Dean’s behavior has an impact on and determines Sam’s choices, but not the other way around. This essay is an attempt to rectify that imbalance.

In that spirit, let’s not forget Sam has agency. Sam made the choice to join Dean on this hunt rather than continue to chase Lucifer on his own when he had no leads, and Sam could choose not to leave this case now despite what Dean wants. Sam is framing things as if Dean has power over him that Dean does not have, as if Dean is misusing that power. Echoes here of the resentments from their childhood I wrote about in the parentification post. No matter what choices Dean makes or what he wants from Sam, Sam can choose not to go along with it. Because Sam is an adult.

> DEAN
> 
> You ain't steering this boat. Let's go, chop chop.

Dean doubles down on his controlling stance. He initially suggested that they both needed training wheels on this case, that it was mutual; but his real motivations, his need for control over Sam, come out explicitly here. Given all the omitted context, most likely Dean needs this control over Sam in order to feel safe working in close proximity with him again. But that’s definitely not the interpretation suggested by the text. 

We could discuss what a more healthy way of communicating all of this to Sam would be, a fairer way of dealing with these underlying issues. But first we’d have to acknowledge the validity of the reason Dean feels this need for control around Sam in the first place: and it isn’t just Sam’s past behavior. It’s Sam’s rejection of any need to change his own present behavior, his resentful repudiation of the very idea that he might need to earn back Dean’s trust in the first place. Instead, he’s signalled overtly more than once since the end of s4 that he does not intend to make the changes necessary to prevent repeating his destructive choices. And he has yet to directly acknowledge either instance of physical violence towards Dean. 

Dean’s control freak response isn’t positive behavior, but it also isn’t without cause. It’s not just sparked by some kind of grudge he’s carrying about Sam starting the apocalypse. The show frames him as inappropriately unable to let bygones be bygones and give Sam another chance, as if that’s the real problem here.

**In the face of a conflict between a character who has inflicted immense damage and the character directly harmed, the show has chosen to come down definitively on the side of the culprit, justifying this because the other party is a “bad victim.”** It sides with the character who went darkside, suggesting that it does so because the character he harmed dares show hypervigilance and controlling behavior towards him in the aftermath of the trauma he inflicted. It sees anything from the injured party that doesn’t conform to a “clean slate” absolution of the culprit as the true violation. 

Family is supposed to hurt. But I guess that’s only true when you’re Dean. When you’re Sam, you’re allowed to put your foot down and have that be supported fully by the narrative.


	31. Chapter 31

What follows is an astounding act of manipulation via verbal gymnastics, double talk, emotional blackmail, and ultimately blame shifting. Sam throws everything he has in his arsenal at Dean here. What’s hard to convey even as I dissect the passage is Dean’s body language -- how Jensen Ackles has portrayed Dean’s reactions. If you haven’t seen “Fallen Idols” recently, it’s worth rewatching to place everything in full technicolor context. Because this is something else. 

I’m going to post the conversation in its entirety, and then I’ll break it down in detail, because it’s such a complex exchange. There are multiple layers of manipulation accomplished through a series of quick switches of tactic, but the overall goal becomes clear if you stand back and look at it as a whole: the conversation moves away from any attempt to hold Sam accountable for his actions and how they damaged the brothers’ partnership and towards shifting all responsibility onto Dean, under cover of Sam standing up for himself in the face of Dean’s bossy handling of the case at hand. It hyper-focuses on the single tree of Dean’s bossiness on this one case as if it stands in for the whole of Sam and Dean’s relationship and ignores the forest of all of Sam’s behavior prior to this episode.

Watch how it happens:

> SAM
> 
> You know, this isn't gonna work.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> What isn't?
> 
> SAM
> 
> Us. You, me, together, I—I thought it could, but it can't.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> You're the one that wanted back in, chief.
> 
> SAM
> 
> And you're the one who called me back in.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> I still think we got some trust building to do.
> 
> SAM
> 
> How long am I gonna be on double-secret probation?
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Till I say so.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Look. I know what I did. What I've done. And I am trying to climb out of that hole, I am, but you're not making it any easier.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> So what am I supposed to do, just let you off the hook?
> 
> SAM
> 
> No. You can think whatever you want. I deserve it, and worse. Hell, you'll never punish me as much as I'm punishing myself, but the point is, if we're gonna be a team, you and I—it has to be a two-way street.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> So we just go back to the way we were before?
> 
> SAM
> 
> No, because we were never that way before. Before didn't work.
> 
> DEAN frowns.
> 
> SAM
> 
> How do you think we got here?
> 
> DEAN
> 
> What's that supposed to mean?
> 
> SAM
> 
> Dean, one of the reasons I went off with Ruby...was to get away from you.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> What?
> 
> SAM
> 
> It made me feel strong. Like I wasn't your kid brother.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Are you saying this is my fault?
> 
> SAM
> 
> No, it's my fault. All I'm saying is that, if we're gonna do this, we have to do it different, we can't just fall into the same rut.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> What do you want me to do?
> 
> SAM
> 
> You're gonna have to let me grow up, for starters.

Following the flow of the scene, it’s easy to get caught up in what Sam’s saying, to miss what’s really going on. It took me years to finally work through this episode and what it’s doing, because manipulation and gaslighting can be difficult to parse and it’s even harder when the narrative is backing it up. 

This conversation is the capstone of the show’s efforts since the end of season 4 to absolve Sam of any responsibility for his actions while making it look like he’s been held accountable, faced himself, and come out on the other side a changed man. Due to the blatant manipulation of the audience up to this point in the episode, we’re primed to see Sam as the wronged party, victim of Dean’s controlling behavior. Therefore what Sam says sounds reasonable, sounds like standing up for himself while still acknowledging what he’s done in the past. Sam fucked up, but Dean’s grudge against him goes against the “fresh start” he supposedly wanted for the partnership. Dean needs to let that go, so they can truly have a fresh start. 

So what’s the problem? 

Let’s look closer:

> SAM
> 
> You know, this isn't gonna work.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> What isn't?
> 
> SAM
> 
> Us. You, me, together, I— **I thought it could, but it can't.**

Think about this exchange in the context of how Dean’s reaction to Sam’s behavior has been treated by the show. Sam lies to Dean, gets caught drinking blood, attacks and strangles Dean, says he’s dangerous and needs to leave hunting, and when Dean reacts by suggesting rejection of Sam (4.22), says that the partnership as they knew it was over (5.01) or resists reconciliation (5.04) the show throws the full force of its narrative manipulation at him to prove him in the wrong.

Comparatively, Dean spends one case acting out by being more controlling and irresponsible than normal and making a single negative but factual comment about Sam to Bobby in a private conversation, and Sam is allowed to put his foot down and suggest the partnership isn’t going to work. Sam’s allowed to suggest the partnership is fatally flawed. Sam’s the one to pinpoint the problem, and to suggest the solution. And the episode backs him up in every way.

Dean’s controlling and passive aggressive behavior in this episode already revealed the flaw in the partnership, but the root cause was intentionally left ambiguous. Dean’s behavior is decontextualized into a pathological pattern from childhood (the need to “let Sam grow up”) rather than viewed within the specific context of the impact on him of recent events. This narrative sleight of hand works on every level to shift responsibility for the repair of their partnership from Sam to Dean.

You can see this comparison as a difference in their characters -- that Sam is more likely to directly defend his rights and boundaries, and Dean more likely to react passive aggressively. There might be an argument to be made there, though I don’t think it’s an accurate statement. But you also can’t ignore that this writing/characterization choice works in the same direction as the rest of the narrative manipulations we’ve dissected this season.

The way Sam broaches the subject appears on the surface to be straightforward, finally drawing the line and standing up for himself, but underneath it’s a master class in manipulation. 

Look at this statement: “I thought it could [work], but it can't.”

Sam takes a martyred tone, but does it match the situation? He was the one who called for the separation in the first place, because of *his own* actions -- he admitted he didn’t trust himself and that he was dangerous. The separation had nothing to do with Dean’s behavior. Then Sam demanded they join back up after Lucifer’s visitation, without bothering to ask if that’s what Dean wanted or consideration for Dean’s reasons for agreeing to the separation in the first place, and without giving any evidence that he’d done anything to change. When Dean finally agreed, Sam insisted that he would “prove himself” to Dean, that he wouldn’t let Dean down.

How does that remotely correspond to *Sam* saying “I thought [working together again] could [work] but it can’t” to *Dean* here? When Sam never showed any hesitation about working together again -- the opposite, in fact?

Sam speaks as if the separation was due to *Dean’s* behavior, that *Sam* only reluctantly agreed to reconcile, and now Dean is continuing to behave in the very way that caused them to separate in the first place. His words and tone suggest that Dean needed to prove himself to Sam, and now he’s letting Sam down. It’s subtle, but Sam implies a specific history that *never existed.* Except this episode has been created to prove it does: that Dean’s been the problem all along.

At the heart of it, Sam didn’t plan to prove anything to Dean. Instead he expected Dean to act as if Sam had already done so without putting in the work, and now he resents that this didn’t happen. Dean is framed as the control freak in this episode, but look at what is really going on, how control is being exerted in this relationship. Sam reverses the actual dynamic present between he and Dean regarding the repair of their partnership, and everything about how the episode is written works on a meta level to prove him right. 

Dean resists this revisionist history:

> DEAN
> 
> You're the one that wanted back in, chief.
> 
> SAM
> 
> And you're the one who called me back in.

First, Sam’s reply in no way answers the challenge of Dean’s statement. Dean overtly questions Sam’s attempt at role reversal, because *Dean* was the only one expressing doubts -- back when he asked Sam “You're just gonna walk back in and we're gonna be the dynamic duo again?” A conversation where *Sam* was the one insisting the partnership would work, promising “I'm gonna prove it to you.” Dean points out that what Sam is saying now is bullshit.

Second, one of the patterns Sam exhibits in this conversation is abruptly changing tactics any time Dean doesn’t buy his manipulation. He starts out with the martyred role-reversal gambit, and when Dean refutes it, he moves on to flipping Dean’s response by suggesting that responsibility for the new partnership is entirely Dean’s because Dean agreed to meet back up in the first place. By calling Sam back in, Dean agreed to give up any right to express anything about what happened, or to any expectations of Sam. 

This argument directly contradicts Sam’s original story, but it *does* appear to refute Dean’s current response, which is the only thing that matters with this kind of verbal smokescreen. Because the point isn’t getting to the core of the issue in an honest way, but in driving the conversation to a predetermined conclusion. Every one of Sam’s responses might contradict his previous argument, but they all have one thing in common: Dean’s the problem, Dean needs to change.


	32. Chapter 32

It would be fair for them to have a conversation about how the partnership will work after the events of the previous year and change. But instead the narrative allows Sam to make unilateral demands on the partnership when he was the cause of its dissolution in the first place, without offering any changes of his own. Dean recognizes this on some level, because he doesn’t let himself get dragged further into that line of argument. Instead he returns to what he sees as the heart of the conflict and repeats his original stance on the relationship as it exists in the current moment:

> DEAN
> 
> I still think we got some trust building to do.

Again, this is as close as Dean is allowed by the narrative to speak to the true core of what’s happened between them. And Dean is still phrasing it as a mutual problem instead of placing the onus on Sam, the one who breached that trust. Dean hasn’t quite come out and said “I’m being controlling because *I don’t trust you yet*” but it’s contextually implicit in his emphasis on trust building as a response to an argument that started out about his bossiness. 

Sam had a choice here. If he really was maturely attempting healthy communication while taking responsibility for his actions the way the show wants you to view him, he would take this opportunity to acknowledge Dean’s reasons for desiring trust building as valid and guide the conversation towards what that trust building might constructively look like as opposed to how Dean has been acting. But Sam does not see Dean’s need for trust building as valid, because he just expects to be trusted. He trusts himself again, therefore Dean should too. Sam has rationalized his own actions to the point where he’s positioned himself as the victim of Dean’s distrust, and his entire manipulative argument is built on that foundation..

So he escalates the argument in a way that both distracts from and negates that core need to establish trust. Sam and the episode approach the problem as if the only issue is Dean’s controlling behavior (the symptom), not Sam’s destruction of Dean’s ability to trust him (the injury). Therefore the solution to all the relationship problems is to eliminate the symptom. 

Because God forbid we acknowledge Sam’s responsibility for Dean’s distrust here. The show behaves as if continuing hypervigilance around and distrust of someone after they strangle you is worse than the act of strangulation. The need to avoid any discussion of *why* trust building might be necessary, or actually commit to doing anything to build trust, leads Sam to step up the manipulation another notch with a third change of tactics -- and leads the show to write him this way:

> SAM
> 
> How long am I gonna be on double-secret probation?

Does this sound like someone who has faced his own destructive behavior and its fallout on the person closest to him? Someone willing to be held accountable after strangling his brother?

Sam started out with a martyred revisionist history, moved on to a tit-for-tat blame shifting, and when Dean holds out something of an olive branch that could have led them to address the very heart of their conflict, Sam continues his pattern of minimizing what he’s done and treating Dean’s needs with flippant dismissal. 

What this statement tells me is  **Sam sees Dean’s continuing distrust as just another attempt to control him.** This is really important to understand. It shows loud and clear what Sam will make more explicit later in this argument: the original problem was never Sam’s behavior, it was Dean’s lack of trust and faith in him back in season 4. Dean *has no right* to distrust Sam, therefore there is no need to rebuild trust, so Dean suggesting trust building is a control tactic, another way he’s mistreating Sam. One Sam’s free to reduce to a childish game that’s gone on too long.

Dean is trying, albeit indirectly, to bring up the trust that Sam destroyed, and Sam comes back with “double secret probation” as if Dean’s response is grossly disproportionate to everything Sam’s done. Like Sam lost Dean’s baseball in the neighbor’s yard and in retaliation Dean grounded him for life and threw away all his toys. The very word choice is telling of his mindset.

Given that this sarcastic dismissal is Sam’s response to Dean’s comment about trust building, who is actually trying to repair the partnership here?

Dean appears to read exactly what Sam is implying:

> DEAN
> 
> Till I say so.

Again, Dean doesn’t back down in the face of Sam’s escalation. He put forth something that could have opened a negotiation of new boundaries between them but when Sam responded like a child, signalling he isn’t willing to have a serious discussion, Dean responds in kind. Dean has mentioned the need for reestablishing trust, but this is the first time he gets to the heart of the matter: contrary to what he suggested before, the needed trust building isn’t a mutual thing. 

The violation of trust was one-way: something Sam did to Dean, to the partnership, through his actions. So the repair of trust isn’t a mutual activity either. Deciding whether to trust someone again isn’t something the person who betrayed your trust gets to dictate. They do not get to determine that timeline. And ultimately, you may never trust them again, and that would be *a consequence of their actions.* Not an unfair punishment.

Sam disputes Dean’s right to his own emotional timing, to decide when and if he trusts Sam again. Ignore the childish phrasing, and the key part of Sam’s question is “how long.” Sam has decided there is a time limit to how long Dean gets to distrust him and a month and change after Sam strangled him, Dean has exceeded the clock by a gratuitous amount. Dean’s refusal to automatically trust Sam again, his determination to require some evidence that Sam is trustworthy before he does, is positioned as the real harm to the relationship. This is the core of the episode and explains everything about what happens next.

Dean took an indirect approach where he phrased everything as applying to both of them, when deep down he clearly believes differently. Sam’s behavior definitely contributed to Dean’s approach, but Dean’s handling of the issue was confusing and passive aggressive. He suggests that they need to mutually be eased back into working together, then spends the case bossing Sam around. But this is not without context: the most important point is that no matter what the show is telling us, Dean’s behavior on this single case has not been worse than, or even close to equal to, the egregious behavior he’s reacting to from Sam.

Look at this exchange from “The End” again:

> DEAN
> 
> So, what, you're just gonna walk back in and we're gonna be the dynamic duo again?
> 
> SAM
> 
> Look, Dean, I can do this. I can. I'm gonna prove it to you.

Dean was obviously expressing doubt over reconciling their partnership. The emphasis was on Dean’s hesitations about working with Sam after “Good God Y’all;” implicit in his question was the idea that Sam suggested the separation in the first place because of his own behavior, but hasn’t shown any change since the last time they worked together. And Sam explicitly countered this by insisting he would “prove” himself to Dean. But prove what? By what means are we to evaluate whether Sam has succeeded? Sam’s ambiguity gives him space in which to maneuver. By repeatedly leaving things this ambiguous, the show works to shift the audience’s conception of events.

Though it was never explicit, you could look at that exchange as Sam promising that he would prove himself *trustworthy* to Dean as a condition of Dean agreeing to work with him again. But after three (unseen) weeks and one case since they reconciled, all of that gets tossed out. We, and Dean, are supposed to accept that Sam *has* proven himself despite the complete lack of evidence. And if Sam has proven himself, Dean’s need for trust building is unnecessary, just there to punish Sam.

Sam’s condescending “double-secret probation” line failed to gain the result he wanted, so he quickly switches to a yet another tactic, one we’ve seen him use twice before in this season:

> SAM
> 
> Look. I know what I did. What I've done. And I am trying to climb out of that hole, I am,  **but you're not making it any easier.**

If you carefully trace the emotional undercurrents of both characters in this scene, who is consistent from line to line? Who veers from emotion to emotion, almost like changing masks, in order to get different effects? Sam turns on a dime from flippant, sarcastic dismissal to a show of earnest vulnerability. The vulnerability is intended to induce guilt in Dean because the sarcasm didn’t work; but it also echoes the martyred tone of his first approach.

Sam makes an empty gesture towards giving a little for the first time in the argument, which he immediately undercuts. He speaks of what he did (note the ambiguity again) in a way that makes it sound like something that happened in the distant past, not the last time the brothers worked together, something that might continue to impact their current relationship. To Sam, that’s already over and done with and he’s moved on. And he behaves as if Dean should too.

As a response to Dean’s flat statement that he gets to decide when to trust Sam again? It’s a direct attempt to convince Dean and the audience that Dean does not have the right to withhold trust from Sam. First he tried to suggest that the time limit on Dean’s distrust had passed, now he’s arguing that Dean’s continued distrust actively harms Sam. Dean’s reaction to Sam harming him is now harming Sam, and is the thing that needs to be addressed, not the harm Sam inflicted. 

Remember the ambiguity in 5.03’s line about how there was nothing so bad it couldn’t be forgiven, and how it seemed to imply change was contingent on being forgiven? I think we can assume that ambiguous phrasing, forgiveness before change, wasn’t random or awkward writing but a reflection of how the situation is being viewed by the writers. Sam admits he did something “bad” and that he’s trying to “climb out of that hole” but Dean’s “not making it easy” -- Dean’s lack of forgiveness is hindering Sam’s attempt to change. That’s if you interpret “climb out of that hole” to mean “change.” As with everything else, Sam doesn’t suggest what he means by “climb out of that hole.” By this point it should be clear that Sam is a master at avoiding specificity, because specificity means he might be held accountable. 

Which reading resonates more with what we’ve been shown onscreen?

“I know what I did, and I’m trying to change so I don’t repeat those mistakes, but you’re not making that any easier.”

Versus

“I know what I did, and I’m trying to move on as if nothing happened, but you’re not making that any easier.”

Ask yourself how anything Dean has done has prevented Sam from making necessary changes in himself, the change he insisted to Lucifer was possible. Why should *Dean* be charged with making “climb[ing] out of that hole” in any way easy for Sam, given what Sam did to him?  **Why is the victim of Sam’s violence being made responsible for Sam’s ability to change himself?**

Sam has no intention of scrutinizing his own behavior but needs to weasel out of being held accountable, so he rationalizes his failure as Dean’s fault -- he can’t change because Dean’s not letting him. If you follow the pattern of his arguments, his primary strategy is to repeatedly deflect everything back onto Dean.


	33. Chapter 33

Compare Sam’s statement, “I know what I did. What I've done. And I am trying to climb out of that hole, I am, but you're not making it any easier” to what he said to Dean back in 5.01:

Because what can I even say? "I'm sorry"? "I screwed up"? Doesn't really do it justice, you know? Look, there's nothing I can do or say that will ever make this right—

In both cases Sam dances around specifically naming what he’s done. Given he’s never directly acknowledged anything he personally did to Dean, does he mean the year of lying, the strangulation, the emotional blackmail, the way he’s repeatedly dodged accountability? His pattern of reacting to any hint of distrust or hesitation from Dean with resentment and aggression, including physical violence? His failure to establish how he’s changed any of this behavior? 

The only explicit mention we have in this episode to anything Sam’s done is Dean’s comment to Bobby, so I suppose the audience is meant to see Sam’s statement here as referring to the larger issue of the apocalypse. Freeing Lucifer. That’s the sole focus of the rest of the season, and framed as Sam’s means to redemption, so most likely that’s the intended focus of “what I’ve done.”

Sam says he’s trying to “climb out of that hole” -- but what has he done to suggest that’s true? He hasn’t even tested his ability to freely resist the temptation of demon blood, which should have been the minimum requirement for his return to hunting. Sam wants to establish that he’s “trying” without actually doing anything concrete. He’s playing to the refs -- to the audience -- while gaslighting Dean. The key is to watch what Sam does, not what Sam says.

Sam’s certainly not trying to climb out of that hole by addressing the way he destroyed his relationship with Dean. Instead, those very relationship problems are framed as hindering Sam’s ability to *recover from his own actions.* As if Sam is the injured party here. He speaks of his own past actions as if they are hurting himself, rather than anyone else; therefore Dean’s failing to make it “easy” for Sam to “climb out of that hole” is compounding the harm to Sam. 

This is the entire aim of his manipulation: “ **you’re not making it any easier.** ” This is the moment where he finds the right way to pivot the conversation after his previous attempts failed to gain any ground with Dean. He finally hit upon the button that will still get to Dean: guilt over inflicting harm on Sam.

Sam repeatedly circles around admitting what he’s done and that what he’s done is serious, but then jumps over any kind of accountability via emotional blackmail. 

In 5.01 he does this through suggesting “nothing I do will ever make this right,” intended to convey the idea that therefore Sam need do nothing at all. Now he’s directly accusing Dean of preventing him from “making it right.” Dean’s continued distrust prevents Sam from “climbing out of that hole.” Making things right isn’t up to Sam and his choices and making necessary changes in himself, but contingent on Dean acting like nothing happened. Otherwise Dean is inflicting harm on Sam.

Every move Sam makes in this conversation, no matter which tactic he takes, serves that same intention: flip the script. No matter how horrendous Sam’s actions have been, everything is ultimately Dean’s fault. 

Sam has thrown a lot of heavy emotional manipulation at Dean, and the cracks start to appear: 

> DEAN
> 
> So what am I supposed to do, just let you off the hook?

Dean’s not quite there yet, but by even giving this much -- asking what *he’s* supposed to do rather than what *Sam* intends to do -- Dean has already begun to accept Sam’s reframing of Dean as the one who needs to change. 

Dean’s question represents the core of this five episode arc. He’s finally allowed by the narrative to point out *exactly* the message the show has been subtextually pushing, but only so Sam can counter it. Every time Dean breaks through Sam’s smokescreen of manipulation, every time he reduces Sam’s words down to what Sam’s implying, Sam denies it and simultaneously doubles down, pushing things further. 

Dean stated that he sees the issue as a need for trust building between he and Sam. So when he asks whether he’s just supposed to let Sam off the hook, he’s asking whether Sam intends fulfil the promise he made when they reconciled at the end of “The End.” It turns out Sam has no intentions of doing any such thing, because he sees the lack of trust as Dean’s problem to get over.

> SAM
> 
> No. You can think whatever you want. I deserve it, and worse. Hell, you'll never punish me as much as I'm punishing myself, but the point is, if we're gonna be a team, you and I—it has to be a two-way street.

Again, it’s necessary to carefully break down everything Sam’s saying and doing here, because there are about six separate layers to this line of dialog.

First, he answers the question of whether Dean should let him off the hook with a flat “No.” But does he mean it? Everything else he says in the conversation undercuts that answer, but it gives him plausible deniability, a false sense of having accepted the consequences of his actions. He knows what he’s supposed to say is that he should be held accountable for what he’s done. However, everything he does and says after that “no” works to prove that Dean should definitely let him off the hook. 

It’s outright gaslighting at this point. It’s *textbook* but we’re meant to side with *Sam* here. But we’re also supposed to absorb the implicit message at the same time, the one delivered in a kind of doublespeak manipulators excel at. No, Dean shouldn’t just let Sam off the hook, because the narrative is proposing Sam shouldn’t be “on the hook” in the first place. In fact, the whole problem is that Dean thinks he’s “on the hook” at all.

The entire conversation drives that point home.  

So what is Sam referring to with “you can think whatever you want?” Dean asked about a specific outcome -- whether Sam should be let off the hook for what he did. The phrase “let off the hook” implies absolution without the need for any kind of amends. It’s a “get out of jail free” card. Sam initially says no, which suggests he feels he owes amends, but then undercuts this with “you can think whatever you want.” This is not about a specific outcome (such as amends, which require concrete actions to achieve) but about how Dean *sees* Sam. Dean can *think* Sam should be held accountable, but this should stay in Dean’s head, not be translated out into the world in a way that might demand anything from Sam.

Even on that level, “You can think whatever you want” is clearly a lie, because Sam expends a lot of energy arguing differently. Sam implies that Dean’s thoughts alone are wrong and harmful to Sam.

In this conversation Dean has asked Sam to take responsibility for his own actions, suggesting that Sam owes Dean the accountability that would mean working to restore Dean’s trust. But how does that fit with Sam’s declaration that “I deserve it, and worse”?

Sam’s view of Dean’s perception of him has been a central force driving his choices since the beginning of season 4, when he chose to lie to Dean from the first moment of Dean’s return rather than be honest about what he was doing and face Dean’s potential disapproval. While Sam was in withdrawal from demon blood, his fear of Dean’s judgement became personified as a hallucination condemning him as a monster -- Dean becomes a projection of Sam’s negative self-perception. After Sam strangled Dean in the hotel room, he emphasized what he saw as Dean’s faulty perception of him -- “you don’t know me.” Afterwards, he questioned whether Dean’s perception of him and the situation was in fact correct. Following the fake voicemail, Sam’s assumptions about Dean’s perception of him as unsalvageable were the key to his decision to go forward with his monstrous acts. 

In season 5, Sam has been more obsessed with how Dean perceives him than he has been with how he might make amends to Dean for his own harmful actions. This drove him to try to force a premature conversation about what had happened, trampling over Dean’s boundaries in 5.01. By this episode, he’s shifted to believing that the solution is for Dean to change his perception of Sam, rather than Sam making any changes in himself. 

Sam says he “deserves” Dean’s negative perception of him, and then equates that negative perception with punishment. I believe this shows that Sam does not understand the difference between punishment and the logical consequences to his actions. This is consistent with the dynamics of an abusive family, where arbitrary and excessive punishment substitutes for good parenting, accountability, and consequences.

Unless you consider a request for trust building to inherently be punishment, Sam’s dialog only makes sense to me as a reference to Dean’s statement to Bobby that the apocalypse is Sam’s fault. Dean was “thinking whatever he wanted” when he spoke those words in a private conversation. But if Sam really thought Dean was free to think what he wanted about it, why did he immediately challenge Dean in that scene? 

That Sam’s actions started the apocalypse is a fact. By saying that he “deserves” that label “and worse” -- Sam suggests that stating the facts of what happened (in a private conversation, no less) is punishing him. What he’s really saying, though, is that Dean still harboring any negative feelings at all about it -- even within his own thoughts -- is punishing Sam. 

I’m sure it feels that way to him. But it’s still manipulative to imply that stating a fact aloud is punishment. What Sam’s demanding through that framing is that Dean not speak about what happened, not even in private conversation, lest he be seen as punishing Sam. Dean’s very *thinking,* Dean’s negative perception of him, is harmful to Sam.

If Sam really believed he deserved how Dean has treated him in this episode, this conversation wouldn’t be happening. By saying he “deserves” Dean’s continued distrust and anger (as manifested through Dean’s bossy control) “and worse” but then following with the “two way street” comment, he’s contradicting himself, because he’s suggesting that Dean’s reactions (the ones Sam deserves) are what’s getting in the way of them working as a team. Sam says he knows what he’s done, that Dean has a right to think what he wants about it, but Sam’s not going to address the actual issue that’s hindering the partnership. Instead he’s framed Dean as preventing that “two way street.”


	34. Chapter 34

Consider this line, “You can think whatever you want. I deserve it, and worse. Hell, you'll never punish me as much as I'm punishing myself,” in the context of Sam’s defense to the hunter in “Free to Be You And Me” when the hunter demanded Sam admit responsibility for the apocalypse:

> Why? You gonna hate me any less? Am I gonna hate myself any less? What do you want?

As with Dean in “Fallen Idols,” Sam behaves as if a statement of fact about what he’s done is punishing him. It’s all about the way the other person perceives Sam -- and Sam’s self-perception -- rather than about  how Sam’s actions have harmed that person. It’s about how Sam is *seen* rather than what Sam has *done.* This is a repetition of Sam’s tactic of demanding that anyone hurt by his actions not express that in any way. It’s an attempt to preempt the other person’s feelings by insisting Sam’s feelings about it are bad enough. Expressing anything negative to Sam is a harmful excess, because Sam’s already done it for them, worse than they ever could.

Sam says Dean will “never punish me as much as I’m punishing myself.” So what does Sam see as punishing himself?

That’s entirely unclear. It’s yet another empty ambiguity that *sounds* meaningful on the surface. Most likely he’s referring to the shame he feels over what he’s done, the shame that causes him to see any acknowledgment of his actions as punishing him. But he’s certainly not holding himself accountable, because that would require the very acknowledgement that he sees as punishment. It’s a vicious cycle. Sam sees anything less than complete absolution, complete “forgiving and forgetting,” complete capitulation to what Sam wants, as punishment at this point.

What Sam does here is position how he feels about what he did, or how he *says* he feels about it, as more important than how anyone his behavior affected feels about it. 

Sam’s feelings about what he did are therefore *punishment enough* in his eyes, so he sees any reaction at all from Dean as cruel and unusual *additional punishment.* Sam feels bad about what he did, so bad that he doesn’t have to do anything to change or treat Dean differently. He views Dean’s need for control and trust building as *punishing Sam* without cause, because Sam’s already done the appropriate amount of punishing himself. 

What it boils down to is Sam suggests feeling bad about himself -- having a negative self-perception -- is holding himself accountable.

Sam says that Dean will never punish him as much as he’s punishing himself. But what has Dean done to Sam that could be called “punishment”?

Dean’s behavior on this case -- ordering Sam around, making fun of his hero, drinking instead of working -- was most likely intended to passive aggressively punish Sam, but in this exchange Sam connects “punishment” with what Dean’s *thinking* and the idea of “letting Sam off the hook.” 

There are two very different conversations, two different realities, happening in this argument. Sam calling Dean out for how Dean has treated him on this case is only the surface level. The other level is Dean’s desire for trust building due to the events that led up to this case. Instead of addressing that problem, making the connection between how Dean has treated him on this case and the trust building that Sam has rejected, Sam projects the current circumstances backwards in time, as the *cause* of Sam’s destructive actions. Using a childish “you did it first!” logic, Sam suggests he’s not responsible for how his own actions have hurt Dean in the present because of Dean’s actions in the past. And the episode supports this.

Sam repeatedly conflates Dean’s withholding of trust and his desire for accountability with Dean’s controlling behavior on the case and equates both of those with punishment. First with his “double secret probation” line and now here. Ignore Sam’s shifting tactics and it all boils down to this: Dean has asked for trust building and has finally made clear that this is up to Sam as the one who violated trust in the first place. Despite the fact that Sam asked Dean what he could do back in 5.01, when Dean finally gives him a concrete suggestion he reacts as if that is intended as punishment in the same way Dean’s petty control and blowing off the case to drink were. 

Why doesn’t Sam view Dean’s request that Sam restore Dean’s trust as the second chance it is? 

Because deep down he sees himself as the injured party. Dean’s lack of trust in him in s4 was the *original* betrayal that caused all of his destructive behavior in the first place.

Finally, which wrong action does he think he’s being punished for? As established, it appears to be Lucifer’s release. It’s definitely not how he directly harmed Dean, because he has never acknowledged that happened. This is why he goes to great lengths to avoid making the connection between his own rejection of Dean’s need for trust building and Dean’s behavior on this case.

How is any of this consistent with Sam’s pivot to “but the point is, if we’re going to be a team, it has to be a two-way street”?

This jump relies on ignoring the contradiction inherent between Sam agreeing that Dean has the right not to let him “off the hook” and what he suggests should go into this two-way street.

There is an argument to be made that I imagine would be an unpopular one in fandom, that Dean might have every right to a high level of control over Sam on this first case. That a two-way street is *entirely inappropriate* at this point. With the caveat that Dean would have to have been upfront about it as a term of their working together again, I think a reasonable case can be made that Dean should be able to exert heavy boundaries in his interactions with Sam, given Sam’s reckless and dangerous behavior on their last case together. This might even involve determining and supervising the level and means of Sam’s participation in the hunt. 

This is not an argument to support Dean’s way of handling this case in canon. But it is one against Sam’s assertion that the only alternative is that Dean should accept Sam back on his own terms as if nothing happened, as if his judgment and behavior hasn’t proven to be dangerous in the recent past, not just in season 4. His actions have been extreme and this requires consequences for protection of not only Dean’s safety but the safety of everyone they might interact with on a case. Sam has not proven himself capable of behaving responsibly or shown any willingness to do anything concrete to change this fact, so he should not expect to be treated the same way he was before. This goes against popular fandom understanding of what is “fair” or “healthy” in a partnership, especially this one; but in my opinion, Sam’s actions have been such that he *hasn’t earned* an equal, independent place in this partnership at this point. 

Sam’s equation of “team” with “two-way street” is a false one. Equality is not a necessary condition of working as partners. There are plenty such partnerships in the real world where there exists hierarchy and boundaries that would not be viewed as a “two-way street.” Equality is a concept Sam is misusing to his own manipulative ends. Sam insists that that if he and Dean are to work together, it must be as equals, and he does so in a way that suggests that trust building negates equality, because his expectation is that he should not be held responsible for the consequences his own actions have had on the ability of this “team” to work together. He sees being held accountable as incompatible with partnership.

The fatal flaw in Sam’s manipulative argument here is that he was the one to upset the balance of the relationship in the first place, by repeatedly lying to Dean, acting unilaterally, drinking blood, strangling Dean, then reacting the way he did to any questioning in 5.02. By doing these things, Sam violated the two-way street that he now insists never existed. It’s yet another reversal of dynamics in order to shift responsibility onto Dean. Sam doesn’t have to admit he violated the partnership if he can argue that they were never equal to begin with, that Dean violated it first. It’s immensely childish.

Sam throws down an ultimatum, and he is the last person who should be doing so under the circumstances. Now, if Dean were to make some aspect of control of Sam’s participation on hunts a term of his working with Sam, Sam would be free to reject that and therefore reject working with Dean again. But he is not in any position to be dictating terms of this relationship the way he does here, as if Dean’s the one who needs to be reigned in overall.

Sam narrows the range of events to be addressed solely to Dean’s actions. First, Dean’s behavior during this case, then expanding to include Dean’s behavior over the course of their entire lives. Sam’s behavior is irrelevant, or relevant only as evidence that Dean’s behavior is what needs to be changed. Which is consistent with what I wrote in the parentification post, about Sam seeing their relationship as flowing in one direction, where Dean’s actions impact Sam but Sam’s do not impact Dean. Because Sam does not see his actions as having any impact on Dean -- even when Dean is telling him they have -- Sam sees Dean as the only one who needs to change, to fix the “team.” At twenty-seven years old, Sam still sees himself as a child and Dean as a hyper-adult. This is not something Dean can fix for him.

Which brings us to:

> DEAN
> 
> So we just go back to the way we were before?
> 
> SAM
> 
> No, because  **we were never that way before** . Before didn't work.

Dean clearly believes that what they had “before” was in fact a “two-way street.” An equal partnership, one based on trust. His argument has been that they need trust building to return to that two-way street, the one that had existed before Sam’s actions destroyed it.

In order to leap over the whole idea that he might have to do anything to repair that trust, Sam shifts tactics again, to insisting they *never had* that two-way street in the first place. That the problems in their relationship predated any of Sam’s actions of the previous year, therefore absolving him of any responsibility for the current situation. *Because the problem all along has been Dean.*

This is an echo of his manipulative tactic in the hotel room in 4.21:

> "My whole life, you take the wheel, you call the shots, and I trust you because you’re my brother. Now I'm asking you, for once, trust me."

The consistency Sam shows in relying on this argument when challenged indicates he believes it. But what he’s doing is projecting how he felt about their childhood dynamic onto their adult relationship and erasing that relationship as it exists in reality in order to avoid accountability for his present day actions. 

If we were to go through the show episode by episode and determine who “takes the wheel,” who “calls the shots,” who trusts who unconditionally because they’re brothers or how often that falls short, my suspicion is we would end up with a dead heat. But Sam’s perception is that Dean is the bossy one who controls everything. While that might have been true on this one case, it definitely does not reflect the overall reality of their adult relationship, where Sam can be just as controlling as Dean, and it for sure does not reflect the events of the past year and change. 

As with any good manipulation, there is a certain amount of narrow truth to what Sam is saying. Dean was punishing Sam in this episode through his controlling behavior. In this one episode, there was not a two-way street, an equal partnership. This truth allows Sam to paint Dean’s arguments for trust building in the face of the consequences Sam’s actions have had on their partnership as null at best, at worst just another attempt to control him. It allows Sam to skip right over the fact that he’s never been held accountable for those actions, that he’s never even specifically acknowledged them to Dean.


	35. Chapter 35

After Sam asserts that the brothers never had an equal partnership to begin with, he goes on to state that therefore the partnership “before [season 4] didn’t work.”  **This allows him to lay the groundwork for the final step in his blame shifting: convince Dean (and the audience) that *Dean* is the one who needs to prove himself *to Sam.***

Accepting that “before didn’t work” means accepting Sam’s version of reality, where Dean is always in control, always calling the shots, and the upheaval  and conflicts of season 4 were due to the fact that Dean didn’t trust Sam “for once” back in that hotel room. 

Once again Sam’s manipulation is dependent on a sliver of truth: it’s not accurate to say that the partnership was 100% successful before season 4. The events of that season wouldn’t have happened if that were true. And because that sliver of truth includes the fact that Dean carries a portion of responsibility for why the partnership has issues, Sam is allowed to focus solely on his perception of Dean’s contribution to the problem and completely erase his own contribution. That’s how he views the relationship, and apparently the show views it this way too or this episode would look very different. Sam uses manipulative tactics and arguments on Dean in this conversation; the failure of the narrative to counter what Sam says and the choice to clearly support it as unbiased truth is how the writers manipulate the audience to side with Sam.

Dean reacts to the idea that the brothers have never had a “two-way street” with a frustrated confusion. Jensen Ackles plays Dean in this scene as someone who knows he’s fighting through a sea of bullshit, but can’t get a handle on what to do or how to counter it, can’t quite get a solid grip on the dynamics of what is happening. This is common with the kind of manipulation that uses those slivers of truth and quick switches of tactics and emotions. The manipulator has an advantage over the other party, because the other party is acting in good faith and assumes the manipulator is as well.

> SAM
> 
> How do you think we got here?
> 
> Sam’s tone is patiently condescending: he’s going to reveal the truth of their circumstances to Dean. Dean reacts to the tone with a defensive edge:
> 
> DEAN
> 
> What's that supposed to mean?
> 
> SAM
> 
> Dean, one of the reasons I went off with Ruby...was to get away from you.

Rewatching the scene will give more of a frame of reference to this part than I can convey. Delivery plays an important role in gaslighting, and Sam’s body language and tone are vital to interpreting his words. It’s hard for me to describe what I see happening: a kind of smug, feigned patience, like he’s talking to an idiot or bestowing revelation upon a child. One he feels an undercurrent of contempt toward, like he’s been waiting for Dean to catch up to him for a long time, and is barely containing frustration with Dean’s denseness, hiding it behind a veneer of kindness. 

Sam conflates how they got to this point in the current case, to this point in their relationship, with his perception of his own motivations for going off with Ruby. This is what Sam has been working up to all along, this is his endgame, what he (and the show, via writing things this way) sees as the answer to the problem of how to finally ensure restoration of Sam’s heroic status. The moment works on two levels: molding both Dean’s perception of Sam, and the audience’s perception of both brothers. 

So once again, let’s look at this line in depth:

Sam jumps from “before didn’t work” to “how do you think we got here” to suddenly bringing up how he “went off with Ruby.” Once again, the phrasing he chooses is extremely vague. Went off with Ruby to do what, Sam? If you haven’t noticed before, this avoidance of specifics is one of Sam’s major patterns. 

Cartoonish minimization of his own behavior is another of his patterns. Sam repeatedly reduces what happened to some kind of squabble between children, which reflects his utter inability to face the gravity of what he’s done. Sam collapses what he did in season 4 into a phrase that sounds like he ran off with his girlfriend to the beach when Dean expected him to wash the car. Left out is how he lied to Dean, drank blood, murdered a woman, strangled Dean, and set off the apocalypse. We’re meant to forget all that and instead focus on Dean and Ruby, with Sam helplessly in the middle torn between them. 

This line refers back to Dean’s accusation in 5.01 that Sam “chose a demon over your own brother.” Which as I explored earlier in the essay, was a manipulative writing choice from TPTB to begin with, intended to conceal Sam’s specific actions towards Dean, how he harmed Dean. It both stands for and disappears the strangulation. By hinging the conflict on Ruby, Sam’s choices fade and Dean’s complaints look petty. Note the narrative did the same with Bobby’s “boo hoo princess, family’s supposed to hurt” speech. This is a running theme in how the show deals with the issue, on every level.

Compare what Sam says here to how he described the issue back in “Good God Y’all,” the last time he and Dean worked together, when Sam had his only honest moment of clarity in the season:

Thing is, the problem's not the demon blood, not really. **I mean, I, what I did, I can't blame the blood or Ruby or...anything. The problem's me. How far I'll go.** There's something in me that...scares the hell out of me, Dean. 

Look at how Sam *now* reduces all of this -- the thing in him that scares the hell out of him, the problem that he sums up as how far he’ll go -- to just one of the undescribed *other* reasons he went off with Ruby. The reasons he completely excises from his discussion of “how we got here.” By doing this, he can focus on the one “reason” that he can pass off as Dean’s responsibility to fix. 

What Sam does here is try to dismiss his own deplorable behavior as some kind of teenage rebellion against his oppressive older brother.

> SAM
> 
> It made me feel strong. Like I wasn't your kid brother.

So what does the thing that scared him in “Good God Y’all” have to do with his explanations now? How does he get from “what I did, I can’t blame the blood or Ruby or… anything” to “going off with Ruby made me feel strong, like I wasn’t your kid brother”? What does how being Dean’s kid brother makes him feel -- as an adult -- have to do with “how far he’ll go”?

And the most basic question of all: is Sam’s assertion that he went to Ruby to get away from Dean even remotely true? 

Again, his lack of specifics works to his advantage. Sam’s history with Ruby starts in season 3, when she first tried to convince him to use his powers. His relationship with her didn’t accelerate until after Dean had died and gone to hell, and he started working with Ruby extensively and drinking her blood to fuel his powers. 

So which time Sam “went off with Ruby” are we talking? 

If he’s referring to season 3, his reasons were explicitly to save Dean from his deal. They had nothing to do with getting away from Dean or feeling strong in comparison. Dean’s death started him on the path that drove his need to feel powerful: in order to seek revenge on Lilith, paired with his need to compensate for Dean’s absence. But that’s just it: Dean was *absent, in hell* when Sam started working with Ruby in earnest. 

I buy that feeling like Dean’s kid brother leads Sam to want to feel strong in a general sense, though I do not accept that this absolves Sam of responsibility for his choices or that this feeling is Dean’s responsibility to fix. But how are we to understand his assertion that he went to Ruby to get away from Dean, if Dean *wasn’t on Earth* when Sam originally started working with her? 

By the time Dean was alive again and you could realistically argue that Sam was “going off with Ruby to get away from Dean” in order to feel “strong, like [he] wasn’t [Dean’s] kid brother,” Sam had in fact been using his powers and drinking Ruby’s blood for months. He’d already devoted himself to his quest to kill Lilith in revenge.

Maybe he honestly felt that way at the time -- but as an explanation for how they got where they are at this moment, as an explanation for why things didn’t work “before,” why there wasn’t a two-way street in the past, it’s complete and utter bullshit. He’s retroactively blaming his own choices to drink blood when Dean was dead… on Dean. Unless he’s suggesting that he would have stopped at some point after Dean’s return to life if only Dean hadn’t made him feel the need to escape to Ruby in order to feel strong. 

Possibly Sam is describing a reaction to Dean’s resurrection. Dean came back to life and reasserted himself in his role of big brother after Sam had been free from the role of younger brother for three months. Sam might see this as an example of Dean driving him to Ruby. But look more closely at what happened in “Metamorphosis”: Sam had deceived Dean about Ruby being alive and about using his own powers for four episodes, but Dean’s just supposed to trust Ruby and have no reaction to being lied to so extensively? When Dean does have a negative reaction, Sam gets to paint it as just another example of Dean bossing him around. Conveniently, Dean’s reaction to being lied to retroactively justifies Sam’s rationalization for lying to him in the first place. Once again, Dean’s reaction to Sam’s destructive actions is the real problem. Sam doesn’t have to take responsibility for anything.

There’s also the fact that by the time Dean got back from hell, Sam was most likely already addicted to Ruby’s blood. And it was very clear by the end of the season that one of the driving factors for Sam “going off with Ruby” was to get access to her blood because if he didn’t, he went into withdrawal. So blaming his need to “go off with Ruby” on Dean making him feel like a kid becomes even more disingenuous. And it implies that his addiction was also Dean’s fault.

The whole thing is a circular argument of manipulative blame shifting. 

In season 4 Sam’s belief that he was the only one who could complete his chosen mission justified his means of doing so as righteous therefore unassailable. This allowed him to dismiss Dean’s valid objections and rationalize this dismissal as due to their childhood dynamic: Dean objecting to Sam’s behavior is just more evidence that Sam is right, because his choices stem from his need to feel strong and escape from Dean’s control. Whether or not Dean is correct about any of it is irrelevant. 

And what does Ruby have to do with Sam’s behavior in season 5? His excuse here only (flimsily) covers his actions in season 4, before Dean killed Ruby. Is Sam arguing that a need to avoid feeling like Dean’s little brother made him shove Dean into a wall in “Good God Y’all”? Sam repeatedly returns to the unstated implication that Dean must never question him in any way lest he be seen as bossing Sam around or making Sam feel weak. 

What Sam is really trying to say is that the two-way street didn’t exist because he felt like Dean’s kid brother all along, before Ruby. He conflates how he feels with how things actually are, implying that Dean has always treated him as an inferior, as a subordinate, in their adult relationship. Which as discussed, is not remotely an unbiased truth let alone one that justifies his behavior.

Once again, that sliver of truth exists -- allowing Sam to dig up his feelings about their childhood in order to evade responsibility for his present actions. As I described in the parentification post, the dynamic between Sam and Dean as children definitely involved elements of what Sam describes -- in a fashion, as he’s only recognizing his own limited perspective of events as having any validity. Which would be fine characterization work if the show at all countered it. Instead the show presents Sam’s view of things as the truth of the situation.


	36. Chapter 36

What are we to make of Sam’s previous rationalization during season 4 that he needed the powers and Ruby in order to save possessed people they’d otherwise kill with the knife? That he needed Ruby because her blood made him strong enough to kill Lilith? Is he now saying that his desire to kill Lilith was entirely a reaction to wanting to get away from Dean? How does this work when it was clear he originally sought to kill Lilith out of revenge after Dean’s death?

The original reasons Sam had for “going off with Ruby” are unimportant in this conversation. Because in order for Sam’s argument in “Fallen Idols” to make any kind of sense, you have to see that he’s referring primarily to that scene in the hotel room when Dean refused to capitulate to his plans. If he’d left it as he “went off with Ruby” in order to feel strong, I’d be less convinced this is all about that specific scene. But Sam emphasized that going to Ruby was about *getting away from Dean.* 

This has been clear from his behavior since 5.01, but most obvious in 5.02 and this episode, when he reacts to any hint of Dean’s distrust with outright hostility. Sam is still pissed and hurt because Dean didn’t trust him at the end of season 4. Dean didn’t enable Sam’s destructive behavior or support his disastrously flawed judgment of Ruby. Dean dared to directly oppose him and call him out on what he was doing. Dean tried to prevent Sam from saving the world from Lilith and punctured Sam’s ability to view his own decisions as heroic. 

Sam chalked this up as Dean being “bossy” so therefore this explains why he “went off with Ruby” to get away from Dean after strangling Dean in the hotel room. Sam sees Dean’s refusal to back his play there as Dean violating that “two-way street” he insists never existed. In no way does Sam appear to view any of this as Dean having the right to call out Sam for actions that impact Dean himself and the wider world. Or that Dean’s concerns for him when he found out Sam was *drinking blood* might be honest and valid and not just an attempt to baby or control him.

The bottom line is Sam needed to get away from Dean in season 4 because Dean didn’t allow him his heroic rationalizations for his own bad judgment and destructive actions. Because Dean didn’t “let him off the hook” about what he was doing when he “went off with Ruby.”

Dean’s reaction to finding out Sam had lied to him about Ruby and his powers, Dean locking Sam in the panic room after witnessing him drink blood, Dean’s “bossiness” in the confrontation in the hotel room, all made Sam feel like the kid brother, made him need to feel strong, so he had to attack and strangle Dean and leave with Ruby. And the show supports this argument because it sees Dean’s failure, the one for which he’ll need to redeem himself at the end of season 5, as refusing to be there unconditionally for Sam during Sam’s time of need. Dean didn’t love him enough, so Dean needs to learn how to do so properly.

If Dean had only “reached” Sam in the hotel room instead of “bossing him around,” Sam would never have gone on to murder Nurse Cindy or kill Lilith, opening the last seal and releasing Lucifer. Therefore the only problem that needs to be resolved in the partnership is Dean.

As far as we know, Sam never found out that voicemail was fake and that the real Dean had apologized to him. That voicemail -- full of Dean’s supposed condemnation -- might be the penultimate moment Sam sees as Dean driving him to Ruby. Sam needed to get away from what fake!Dean was saying about him, so he had to dismiss his hesitations about his own actions -- the ones Dean had inspired in the first place -- and agree to killing and drinking an innocent woman.

Sam’s need to get away from Dean might have been one of his core motivations in a way Sam refuses to acknowledge: a need to escape his own conscience. Because he knew all along what he was doing was wrong and Dean wouldn’t let him forget it.

For the second or third time in this conversation, Dean reduces the fog of manipulation to its intended meaning:

> DEAN
> 
> Are you saying this is my fault?
> 
> SAM
> 
> No, it's my fault. All I'm saying is that, if we're gonna do this, we have to do it different, we can't just fall into the same rut.

It’s another pattern: Dean states flatly what Sam is obviously implying, then Sam directly denies it only to undercut his denial by reinforcing exactly what Dean said was going on. 

What’s Sam mean by “the same rut”? What do they need to do different? He doesn’t say. Notice he never names what behaviors he’s asking Dean to change; he only talks about the way he feels -- that Dean makes him feel like a little brother so he has to react in order to feel strong. He never states exactly which behaviors of Dean’s provoke this feeling in him. “You’re going to have to let me grow up” is not naming specific behaviors either. Sam is making Dean responsible for his own feelings, for his reactions, without giving Dean any idea how to accommodate him. It’s another example of Sam’s tactical use of ambiguities and avoidance of specifics. This way, Sam can use “you’re making me feel like a kid brother, you need to let me grow up” any time Dean might disagree with him or have a problem with his behavior. Which we’ll see him do at the end of the season.

Back up and look at this in the context that Sam is insisting they’d never had an equal relationship to begin with.  Sam insists he’s not blaming Dean for his own actions -- which he implies were due to needing to get away from Dean for making him feel like a little brother -- but goes on in the next exchange to say the solution to prevent them from falling back into that unequal rut… is that Dean has to change. 

Both things can’t be true. Sam’s actions can’t be Sam’s fault AND the way forward from the consequence of Sam’s actions be solely Dean’s responsibility.  All of this is a logical progression that leads rationally to Dean understanding that Sam is saying everything is Dean’s fault.

Which Sam denies. But following the pattern already established earlier in the conversation, Sam immediately negates that denial. He’s just implied everything *was* Dean’s fault, because nowhere in this conversation (or anywhere else that we’ve seen) has he taken responsibility for his own choices. He says what he did was his own fault, but the one who needs to change to prevent it from happening again is Dean. Then he gaslights Dean by insisting Dean’s question (you’re blaming me?) has no basis, that Dean is misunderstanding him, but what other conclusion is Dean supposed to draw from anything Sam has said, when the only motivation Sam has directly acknowledged for his own actions is that Dean made him feel like a little kid? That all of Sam’s choices were due to a need to get away from Dean, specifically?

At this point, Dean gives up and waves the white flag. Sam has outmaneuvered him in ways that Dean is clearly at a loss to counter:

> DEAN
> 
> What do you want me to do?

Even in his surrender, Dean cuts through the bullshit, because he takes Sam’s cue and jumps from “ **we** have to do it different,  **we** can’t just fall into the same rut” to “what do  **you** want  **me** to do.” 

Dean’s gotten the message, loud and clear. By this point, he knows how things work with Sam. He’s been told by everyone he knows -- Bobby, Cas, his enemies, and now Sam himself -- that Sam’s actions are his responsibility. He tried to push back against it in this episode, but it’s still a core belief that John instilled in him as a child, and Sam has hit all the right buttons.

Notice how Sam doesn’t correct Dean’s shift from “we” to “me” at all, exposing his insistence that things were his fault and not Dean’s as a lie. The suggestion of “we” was just another manipulative tactic. Sam has no intention of doing anything different, himself.

> SAM
> 
> **You're** gonna have to let me grow up, for starters.

For starters, but there will never be any additional solutions proposed to avoiding falling into that rut. Because Sam got what he wanted. He doesn’t need to do anything else now. Dean will do it all for him.

How does Sam make the leap from “ **we** have to do it different” to “ **you’re** gonna have to let me grow up”?

Sam sees Dean’s perception of him as faulty and that faulty perception as what has driven Dean’s behavior in this episode, therefore what has to change is Dean’s perception of Sam. In order to understand his thinking, you have to work backwards from the ultimate solution Sam proposes. So the solution (Dean “letting Sam grow up”) identifies a perceptual problem (Dean needs to stop seeing Sam as a child). That perceptual problem (Dean seeing Sam as a child) is causing Dean to punish (control) Sam. Dean controlling Sam is what is preventing the true “two-way street.” This in turn caused Sam to do what he did. Sam works backwards from the outcome he’s already decided on in order to rationalize his own actions.

Conveniently, the role of Sam’s behavior in mucking up the partnership is entirely absent. Someone *does* have a faulty perception of Sam. The problem is in the case of Sam’s behavior in s4-5 that person is not Dean. And deep down, Sam knows this. This is why he has to make the leap from “we have to do it different” to pinning how they do it different entirely on Dean.

Here lies the core of the episode: Sam’s fully aware that his actions destroyed Dean’s trust of him, and on some level he feels ashamed. But he can’t deal with the magnitude of what he did, so he has to reverse the dynamics so that what he feels (shame at the consequences of his own actions) is actually harm being inflicted on him by Dean. Sam is the real victim here. And this is exactly how the episode operates on a meta level as well, paralleling and reinforcing Sam’s gaslighting dialog. See how it works?

What does Sam mean by “you’re gonna have to let me grow up,” specifically?

Contextually Sam is most likely referring to Dean giving up his controlling treatment of Sam on this case. However, given his argument here is the same as the one he made in the hotel room in 4.21 and how that connects with what Sam describes as the reasons he “went off with Ruby,” Sam is still conflating Dean’s objections to Sam’s destructive behavior with Dean being controlling and bossy. As if Dean trying to stop him at the end of season 4 was equivalent to Dean’s behavior in this episode. Sam has pinned all the responsibility for his own past behavior onto Dean for making him feel like a little brother, so Dean must stop making him feel that way. It never appears to occur to Sam that the one who needs to grow up is himself. 

What concrete changes of behavior is Sam asking from Dean? Again, he doesn’t say, leaving it on Dean to figure out. His message is still clear: it’s up to Dean to change in order to ensure that a repeat of s4 never happens, to make sure he doesn’t provoke Sam again. To prevent them falling back into that *other* rut, the one where Sam lashes out at Dean violently when Dean dares to question him. **“Letting Sam grow up” is ultimately equated with Dean enabling whatever Sam wants to do, without objection.**

By the end of the season Sam will insist that “letting him grow up” means that Dean needs to agree to Sam’s incredibly foolhardy plan to say yes to Lucifer regardless of the consequences to Dean and the entire world should he fail, in a season finale that closely replicates the events for which Sam is supposedly redeeming himself. He and Bobby both explicitly frame the matter in a way that should Dean protest this plan, he will be accused of failing to “let Sam grow up.” Dean can’t get in the way of Sam’s compulsion to prove himself stronger than Lucifer at risk of the world. If he does, he’s treating Sam like a child.

While Sam’s issues with Dean are not without merit in the general, he doesn’t take responsibility for his own half of the dynamic, or accept that Dean does have the right if their partnership is to be an equal one to express disagreement with or concern over his choices. Even if Dean were to amend his approach to Sam to never again give off a whiff of “bossiness,” Sam’s side of the dynamic would remain, because this isn’t a one-way street.

For the sake of argument, let’s look back and ask how things would be different if Dean had successfully “let Sam grow up” to Sam’s standards -- whatever those are -- before now. Keep in mind that Sam locked onto his desire to kill Lilith before Dean got back from hell, and refused to give it up even when Dean pointed out the need for revenge had passed because he was alive. How far back do we need to go? Before Dean found out about Sam using his powers? Before Dean went to hell? Before Dean’s deal? Before Jessica died and Sam returned to hunting? Before Sam left for college?

Even if you could find the point where if Dean had “let Sam grow up,” Sam never would have done what he did in season 4, it would still be putting the responsibility for Sam’s decisions on Dean. It’s still allowing Sam to get away with a refusal of all accountability for his own choices, no matter how extreme and destructive his actions were, no matter what he did to harm Dean. 

Which has been the whole point of season 5, hasn’t it?


	37. Chapter 37

The way Sam sees his own choices can be summed up by what he told Ruby in the first episode of season 4: that he has to lie to Dean because he knows how Dean will react. Sam sees what he did to betray Dean’s trust as something he had to do *because of Dean,* therefore justified. Of course, this ignores that the honest thing to do if he wanted an equal partnership, if he really believed what he was doing was both right and necessary, would be to be upfront about it to Dean and continue on despite how Dean might react. It ignores that his real reason for lying is he didn’t want anyone pointing out what he was doing was wrong. He was avoiding his choices being challenged in any way.

It also ignores the fact that the strangulation alone would be enough to destroy Dean’s trust of him. 

But the problem is that Sam perceives the relationship through a warped lens which allows him to escape behaving like an adult with integrity. He can continue rationalizing what he was doing without being challenged in any way, avoiding any views that might counter his own or make him doubt his course of action. Sam is still using this excuse -- that he has to lie to or hide things from Dean because he knows how Dean will react, that Dean won’t “let him grow up” -- well past seasons 4 and 5, into the present day in canon, when both men are nearing forty. 

Sam has too much invested in not growing up to do so on his own, because the idea that Dean prevents him from being an adult is too useful a tool to discard. Despite his recurring complaints about being treated like a child, there are benefits to Sam not perceiving himself as an adult in relation to his view of Dean as a kind of hyper-adult. As Demon Dean says after calling himself Sam’s babysitter in season 10, Dean is often Sam’s “excuse for not manning up.” It should be noted that Dean’s only allowed to say anything this critical about Sam’s behavior because, true to the pattern established in season 4, he’s literally demonic. Therefore the audience isn’t meant to see this as truth in the same way we’re meant to see Sam’s repeated refrains of “you have to let me grow up/let me go” as truth.

Sam’s faulty perception allows him to escape taking responsibility for himself and his own decisions while seeing Dean as responsible for everything, replicating the dynamics of parentification. It allows Sam to blame Dean for Sam’s unhappiness with his situation -- especially when it comes to hunting, where he gets to duck making a choice about his own life while blaming that refusal to make a choice on Dean. It also gives him leverage to emotionally manipulate Dean. 

This is a central problem in preventing their partnership from being a truly equal “two-way street” -- yet Sam’s rationalizations allow him to view this problem as one that Dean alone creates. Fandom and the show label the brothers’ relationship as “codependent” but place the fault for this on Dean, as if Sam has escaped the pressures of family dysfunction that created this “codependence.” However, the way Sam reinforces and relies on the imbalance in order to avoid any responsibility toward himself, his brother and their partnership is Sam’s half of that “codependence.”

He repeatedly insists the cause of his own behavior is Dean somehow not allowing him to “grow up,” in order to rationalize why he’s behaving like a child. It’s Sam’s go-to excuse any time he wants to lie to or withhold information from Dean, any time he decides on a course of action without consulting Dean, any time Dean disagrees with Sam’s plans. 

It’s very manipulative and convenient, even if Sam genuinely feels this way. It’s childish. It’s one of the primary tools in Sam’s arsenal when it comes to his relationship with Dean. Sam and the show both repeatedly use this idea that Dean doesn’t “let Sam grow up” as a trump card as if it holds unequivocal truth. Which is how it will be used both here and at the end of the season.

Sam is approaching thirty in “Fallen Idols.” If he feels the need to grow up, he’s free to do so no matter what Dean thinks or says about it. Dean can’t, in fact, prevent Sam from growing up.

That “two-way street” Sam says he wants should by definition go both ways. But in Sam’s mind it’s really a one-way street: Dean should trust Sam, should be 100% open about everything with Sam, should have Sam’s full cooperation and agreement before making decisions or acting, but Sam doesn’t have to return the favor. He doesn’t have to be honest with Dean. He’s allowed to lie to and keep secrets from Dean, even when those secrets directly impact Dean or the world, and he gets to place responsibility onto Dean for this failing. If Dean acts unilaterally, it’s because he’s bossy and controlling and emulating Sam’s father, but if Sam acts unilaterally, it’s because… of Dean. Pretty sweet setup.

Sam uses his grievances over their childhood dynamic to rig the game in his favor. He wants Dean to stop treating him like a child, but he refuses to act like an adult, as if the very ability to do so hinges on Dean.

This is how Sam fails to “grow up” in “Fallen Idols”: he identifies his reaction to being Dean’s kid brother and a need to feel strong as one root of his destructive behavior, but he stops there and projects the cause of this feeling onto Dean. Within a self-reflective recovery process, identifying his own patterns of behavior and triggers and the sources of those triggers is important. So he’s made it part way. But in an utter misuse of that process of self-reflection. what he’s doing with that knowledge is requiring the solution to be provided by another person.

Needing to feel strong because he doesn’t want to feel like Dean’s kid brother is *Sam’s problem* to deal with. Even if Dean were to continue treating Sam like a child indefinitely, it would *still* be Sam’s problem, because he’s the only one in control of his own choices and behavior. Not Dean. Sam argues as if he has no agency over his life, instead placing all of the agency on Dean, as if he’s nothing but Dean’s puppet. In order to do so he has to completely ignore the impact of his own behavior on Dean.

And there is that pesky context: even if Sam was 100% correct about their relationship not being equal in the past in the way he argues, he’d *still* be proposing that the only action that needs to be taken in the face of the consequences of his horrific choices in season 4 is for *Dean* to change. The logical conclusion to this argument is that if Dean fails to change, Sam will keep repeating his destructive behavior, because what other choice would he have? 

It’s an intricately structured house of cards, built on what you could at best charitably call a warped perception of reality.

Let’s look closer at how Sam’s need to feel strong, the reason he drank blood, had been described prior to this episode:

> HALLUCINATION!DEAN
> 
> I know why you really drink that blood, Sam.  Makes you feel strong. Invincible. **A big bad wolf in a world of little pigs.**
> 
> WAR
> 
> **Lust for power.** Same as always. You want to be strong again.  **But not just strong. Stronger than everybody.**

In “Fallen Idols” Sam passes his need to feel strong off as provoked by a desire to not feel like Dean’s little brother in the face of Dean’s bossiness. But is this consistent with how War and Sam’s hallucination of Dean described his need for power? They emphasized not just feeling strong, but feeling *invincible.* Feeling stronger than everyone. A big bad wolf in a world of little pigs -- a predator. And Sam suggests that Dean makes him feel this need.

This isn’t just a flawed attempt to rebalance the scales with Dean, a desire for equality when he’s always felt subordinate to Dean since they were children. This isn’t even a wish to reverse roles with Dean, to be the big brother. Dean has never treated Sam this way, even at his worst. This is a lust for power, a need to dominate. A need to inflict pain, fear, and revenge. Exactly what drove Sam to strangle Dean in that hotel room. His strangulation of Dean wasn’t about feeling unfairly treated, like a child; it was rage at being defied, at Dean’s refusal to back down and enable him. 

In this scene Sam tries to rationalize the behavior that led him to strangle Dean as due to this need to avoid feeling like Dean’s little brother. And by tying this need to feel strong solely to this childhood dynamic, by suggesting it was wholly caused by Dean’s behavior and not something Sam himself has responsibility for controlling, he’s implying that Dean provoked his own strangulation. The implication of his entire argument is that unless Dean falls in line, Sam can’t prevent a repeat of that violent reaction to being questioned. 

Dean has never behaved towards Sam like a “big bad wolf in a world of little pigs,” not even at his most controlling. But another character does show this pattern of domination: their father, John Winchester. Somehow Sam (and the show) entirely ignores the influence of his abusive father on his own behavior. This shifting of perceived influence from John to Dean is entirely consistent with the dynamics of parentification I discussed, where the siblings project their anger at the absent parent onto the parentified child as the parent-surrogate, as the easier and safer target. 

Fandom discusses these characters as if John was not a formative influence on Sam. As if there was a hierarchy within the family where John shaped Dean and then Dean shaped Sam, and John did not have any direct impact on Sam himself. Even from the sketchy evidence we have of their childhood this is obviously not the case. John was a looming presence in the lives of both brothers. 

John’s habit of cutting Dean down when Dean stood up to him and reacting with hostility to any questioning from his sons parallels how Sam treats Dean in the hotel room in 4.21, in “Good God Y’all,” and in this episode far more closely than the forced parallels the show has attempted between Dean and John in 4.21-22 or “Fallen Idols.”

Throw in the way John was still conditioning both brothers to see Sam’s choices as Dean’s responsibility when they were well into adulthood, and you have a recipe for Sam viewing this outcome as expected, as normal, as the answer to everything. In season 2 Sam himself insisted Dean adhere to his promise to John to kill Sam if Sam went darkside, making Dean responsible for controlling Sam. 

Of course Dean is ultimately responsible for what Sam did in season 4; it’s always been this way.


	38. Chapter 38

The episode uses the device of an interrupting phone call to break off the conversation right after Sam delivers his coup d’grace. This allows the narrative -- and Sam -- to get away with failing to provide any specifics about what he means by “you’re gonna have to let me grow up.” What concrete behavioral change is he asking for? What exactly are the boundaries he’s setting? How does he plan to reconcile allowing Dean to question or disagree with him and the need to be accountable for his actions with the way he’s conflated these things with Dean controlling him? In fact the lack of specifics highlights that this was never really about changing the relationship for the better, it was about shifting blame, ensuring Sam not be held accountable.

By cutting to the episode’s most comedic surprise twist -- an ancient god played by Paris Hilton -- the script distracts the audience from asking any of these questions. The fact that this is left up in the air signals that the episode sees them as unimportant, because the intended message has been delivered to Dean and the audience. Dean’s to blame. Sam’s off the hook. No need to look at it any closer.

> DEAN
> 
> Paris Hilton's not dead as far as we know, right?
> 
> SAM
> 
> Pretty sure, no.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Which means it's not a—
> 
> SAM
> 
> Ghost. No.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> So, what? Paris Hilton is a homicidal maniac—
> 
> SAM
> 
> Or we missed something.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> What do you wanna do?

Now that it’s been proven that Sam was right about the hunt not being a ghost, Dean defers to Sam. One brother deferring to the other’s lead during a case is standard for their relationship (and contrary to Sam’s assertions, Dean often defers to Sam), but in the current context it’s meant to be seen as Dean seeing the wisdom in what Sam has said and adjusting his behavior accordingly. 

Sam goes on to discover the seed planted in the next victim and then makes the connection between the seeds and the ancient god Leshi. In other words, now that Dean has relinquished his control over Sam, Sam can shine and solve the case. Everything is as it should be.

Sam and Dean return to the wax museum armed with the proper weapon to kill the ancient god. Before they can succeed, Leshi pins them in place and gives them the villain’s traditional exposition.

LESHI

> You used to worship gods. But this?
> 
> (The LESHI indicates her Paris Hilton disguise.)
> 
> This is what passes for idolatry? Celebrities? What have they got besides small dogs and spray tans? You people used to have old-time religion. Now you have  _ Us Weekly _ .

Contrast Leshi’s mockery of American culture’s worship of shallow celebrity with Sam’s idolizing of Gandhi. No flimsy celebrity for Sam. Sam’s idol is serious, has moral gravitas. 

Having eviscerated pop culture’s obsessions, Leshi turns to Dean:

> LESHI
> 
> I can totally read your mind, Dean. I know who your hero is. Your daddy. Am I right? Poor little Dean. All you ever wanted was to be loved by your idol. One distant father figure, coming right up.

Dean is framed as pitiful for his object of admiration; all Dean ever wanted was to be loved by his abusive, neglectful father, but wasn’t even good enough for that. In comparison, Sam chooses a worthy hero, someone genuinely inspiring. Emulating someone like Gandhi would make Sam a better person, a hero; what does emulating John make Dean? The episode has subtextually encouraged a parallel between Sam and Gandhi, now it encourages the audience to compare Dean with John, to understand that Dean was acting like his father in this episode.

Dean frees himself and fights Leshi, but Sam succeeds in killing the god, capping off his overall image of competence.

Case wrapped up, the episode’s final scene drives home the message of the first quarter of the season:

> DEAN
> 
> Hey, listen, I was thinking about what you said yesterday. About me keeping too tight of a leash on you. 

The show (and fandom) promotes the idea that Sam is the better communicator, the mature one in this partnership; but what we’re shown is that Dean listened to what Sam said and gave it genuine consideration. Which is far more than Sam has shown any of Dean’s requests for trust building. This point is ignored; TPTB want the audience to pay attention to what it has said about the characters, not what it has shown.

Dean describes Sam’s grievance as one of Dean “keeping too tight of a leash” on him, but Sam never got that specific about his objections. This phrase also reflects the dynamics of parentification from Dean’s perspective -- that his responsibility is to control Sam. Humans keep an animal on a leash both to protect it from running into danger, but also to prevent it from harming others. But Dean is never allowed to suggest there might have been a valid reason for his feeling he had to “keep a leash” on Sam. That Sam might have been objectively out of control.

> DEAN
> 
> Hell, maybe you're right. I mean, look, I'm not exactly Mister Innocent in this whole mess either, you know. I did break the first seal.

By bringing up his own role in breaking the seals, Dean connects his “keeping a leash” on Sam with the release of Lucifer, rather than anything Sam did to Dean himself. This is the only connection the audience is meant to make in this episode. 

This cements the idea that “mistakes were made on both sides,” that Dean is co-responsible for everything that’s happened. By doing so Dean conflates something he did after thirty years of torture -- infinite and inescapable torture specifically intended to produce the breaking of the first seal -- with the result of choices Sam made freely, out of a desire for revenge and to feel powerful. Torture is by definition the intentional, systematic destruction of free will, choice, and agency in a person. Sam could have stopped at any time; he expressed hesitations and doubts repeatedly and several trusted people including Dean tried to question what he was doing. 

There is not equivalence of any kind between what Dean did in hell and Sam’s choices in season 4. The episode can’t just leave things with Dean ultimately agreeing with Sam’s blame shifting about his own choices, it has to have Dean accept this responsibility too. 

This is beyond manipulative. 

It’s horrific.

This isn’t just a throw away line. Dean’s very trauma is used against him by the narrative, to prove he’s just as responsible for what happened as Sam. To imply, in fact, that he started it. If Dean hadn’t broken the first seal, after all, Sam killing Lilith would not have been the last seal. Lucifer would never have been released.

All the messy loose ends -- the lies, the murder, the strangulation, the lashing out in violence -- all of the rest of Sam’s awful behavior and its consequences have been dropped into the memory hole. And so the slate is wiped clean for Sam. 

Now comes the reconciliation, now that Dean has conceded to Sam’s demands to take the blame for Sam’s behavior and accept equal responsibility for the apocalypse:

> SAM
> 
> You didn't know.

This is supposed to be something Sam is saying out of kindness to Dean; but it reinforces the idea that Dean breaking the first seal was a choice, just like Sam’s pursuit of Lilith was a choice. It’s Sam projecting his own rationalization for what he did onto Dean’s situation. It completely erases that unlike Sam, *Dean did not have a choice.* I can’t emphasize enough how awful this false equivalency is.

> DEAN
> 
> Yeah, well, neither did you. I'm not saying demon blood was a great way to go, but, you did kill Lilith.
> 
> SAM
> 
> And start the apocalypse.

Note how Sam is fine with admitting that he started the apocalypse -- exactly what he resentfully objected to Dean stating to Bobby -- now that Dean has capitulated and accepted the blame. Now that Sam is fully off the hook for his behavior.

> DEAN
> 
> Which neither of us saw coming, I mean, who'd have thought killing Lilith would've been a bad thing? Point is,  **I was so worried about watching your every move that I didn't see what it was actually doing to you** . So, for that I'm sorry.

By my count, this is the third time Dean has apologized to Sam since Sam strangled him.

In the voice mail in 4.22, Dean apologized for hurting Sam’s feelings, for failing to prioritize Sam and Family over his own safety after Sam attacked and strangled him in the hotel room. At the end of “The End,” Dean apologized to Sam for not immediately agreeing to reconcile when Sam demanded it after Lucifer appeared to him, despite the relief Dean had felt at their separation and his remaining hesitations about Sam. Now he’s apologizing to Sam for his hypervigilant attempts to monitor and control Sam’s actions in the aftermath of the violent behavior that peaked with the strangulation and culminated in “Good God Y’all” when Sam shoved him into a wall for daring to question him. 

In contrast to Sam’s manipulative apology style, every one of Dean’s apologies has named exactly what action he’s apologizing for and been free of any rationalizations or attempts to pass the blame for his actions onto anyone else. And every one of these apologies has been for Dean’s rational responses to how Sam has treated him. 

By repeating this pattern the show emphasizes to the audience that Dean’s reactions in the face of Sam’s behavior are the real issue. Having Dean apologize here for a third time is just the icing on the rotten cake that is the show’s attempt to rescue Sam’s image. If Dean’s apologizing, it must mean he really did wrong Sam, right?

Notice the only thing that matters is what Dean’s hypervigilance was doing *to Sam* not what Sam’s actions have done to cause Dean’s hypervigilance. Not what Sam’s actions have done *to Dean.* This is never a priority; it’s never even acknowledged.  **Dean apologizes for what watching Sam’s every move after Sam extensively lied to and strangled him… did to Sam.**

The show has worked overtime since the strangulation to bring us to this moment. First through Bobby’s emotionally violent shaming of Dean in the “boo hoo princess” speech, reinforcing that “family’s supposed to hurt” and that Sam’s feelings are more important than Dean’s safety. Next through a deliberate emphasis on shifting the blame for all of Sam’s actions onto Dean, driving home a message that started out as “we both fucked up” but gradually shifts to “but Dean started it.” Finally in “The End” the fate of the world was placed on Dean’s shoulders when he’s shown that he must agree to the reconciliation he had tried to resist, terminating a separation that he had characterized to Cas as allowing him space to see how much he’d been “chained to his family,” because Sam feeling abandoned by Dean will lead him to agree to be Lucifer’s vessel. Now the last loose thread has been tied and we can move on to more important things.


	39. Chapter 39

In the past several episodes, Dean has repeatedly mentioned the burden of worrying about Sam. At the end of “Good God Y’all” he agreed to the separation, telling Sam: 

> The truth is I spend more time worrying about you than about doing the job right. And I just, I can't afford that, you know? Not now.

And during “Free to be You and Me” he admitted to Cas:

> I spent so much time worrying about the son of a bitch... I've been so chained to my family, but now that I'm alone, hell, I'm happy.

In both these cases the context implied that Dean’s worry was not only for Sam himself but also centered around having to deal with what Sam might do, a fear of Sam’s dangerous behavior. Given Dean’s experiences of violence at Sam’s hands, he’s at least in part saying that this worry is about what Sam will do to Dean if Dean questions him, and that this fear interferes with “doing the job right.” When he says he can’t afford that, not now, it’s spoken in the face of the coming apocalypse, a fight against Lucifer and his demons. 

Sam has not in any way shown Dean he has the ability to resist the temptation of demon blood or the power it gives him. Lucifer told Dean in “The End” that no matter what he does, Sam will give Lucifer consent to possess him. That episode implied that Sam says yes to Lucifer because Dean abandoned him. So what choice does Dean have but to accept Sam back, regardless of whether Sam has changed any of the behavior that spurred the separation in the first place? In the face of all of this, how is Dean supposed to react to Sam rejecting any need for trust building? 

**Dean’s fear that Sam will return to the destructive behavior he has shown no sign of changing -- including violence towards Dean himself -- is a big part of why he felt he had to keep Sam on a tight leash in this episode. And the show punished him for it.**

Dean has been placed in an impossible position, told the end of the world will be his fault if he doesn’t take back his brother despite the fact his brother has failed to acknowledge harming him let alone the need to change himself in any way, but the episode frames the central problem solely in terms of Dean “not letting Sam grow up.” The worry Dean spoke of in the previous episodes is reduced to Dean seeing Sam as a child who needs saved and controlled, the way John taught him. The show exploits Dean’s history of parentification in order to sidestep Sam’s violence towards Dean, in the same way it exploited Dean’s hell trauma to force a false equivalence between the first and last seals and reinforce the “Dean did it first” narrative Sam had already established. These tactics echo how Sam himself manipulated things in the episode’s central conversation. 

The bottom line is ultimately about how the show views these characters: Sam arguing his behavior is due to how Dean treats him like a child is presented as a valid, unbiased grievance that must be corrected by Dean; the implication that Dean’s behavior is due to worry over Sam’s violence towards him is barely left to subtext (if that) and reduced to little more than a hangover from their childhood.

Season 5 allowed Dean to voice those worries, to admit profound relief at being free from feeling chained to his family, only to prove how wrong he was to do so. 

> DEAN
> 
> So where do we go from here?

This is our signal to move on. The subject is closed. The problems in the partnership have been resolved. Now Dean is asking for Sam’s guidance for what they’ll do next. Dean has been put in his place. Notice how the episode now establishes Sam as the voice of authority in the relationship and how to proceed in fighting the apocalypse. Dean is reduced to a passive role, following Sam’s lead in the disaster Sam’s actions and choices set in motion. As if Sam’s judgment, and not Dean’s, has been right all along and is to be trusted in these matters. This sets the stage for the final narrative manipulations that lead to Sam’s yes to Lucifer plan in “Swan Song.”

> SAM
> 
> They way I see it, we got one shot at surviving this.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> What's that?
> 
> SAM
> 
> Maybe I am on deck for the devil, maybe same with you and Michael, maybe there's no changing that.

Sam echoes his line about destiny from the end of “The End,” subtextually showing that he has yet to face the part of himself that makes him feel like he’s destined to be Lucifer’s vessel. 

Dean’s sarcastic response here echoes his earlier insistence on free will:

> DEAN
> 
> Well that's encouraging.
> 
> SAM
> 
> But, we  _ can _ stop wringing our hands over it. 

No one has been wringing their hands over the vessel issue in this episode -- it hasn’t even been mentioned. This line refers back to Dean’s original argument for why the brothers should remain separated, at the beginning of “The End.” Dean insisted that because they were Lucifer and Michael’s vessels, they should keep away from one another to prevent the apocalypse. As I wrote about that episode, this argument was used as a distraction from the fact that Sam was insisting on reconciliation without having faced anything about himself. Instead of allowing Dean to directly call him on that, the show diverted his refusal to reconcile into a more altruistic, world-saving explanation. Dean is not allowed to advocate for himself, only for the good of others. Now he’s not even allowed that much. Any remaining hesitations he has about working with Sam are dispatched with this line.

This is the first time the vessel issue has come up in this episode. So why is this line here?

It acts to reorient the season away from any lingering issues of season 4 and towards the vessel storyline. It signals to the audience that we should also stop wringing our hands over what’s happened in the past and look to the future. The past, with its refusal to hold Sam responsible for his actions, especially how he harmed Dean, is in the past. The show is moving on. 

The phrase “wringing our hands” has the connotation of pointless, excessive or pathological worry. Hysteria. Dean’s control over Sam in this episode was due to “wringing his hands” over what Sam might do, and any future problems with Sam he might have would be more of the same. Any hesitation from the audience over what we’ve been shown versus what we’ve been told falls into the same category, and therefore must be dismissed. 

> SAM
> 
> We gotta just grab onto whatever's in front of us, kick its ass, and go down fighting.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> I can get on board with that.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Okay. But we're gonna have to do it on the same level.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> You got it.

They have to do it on the same level. Which in “Swan Song” will mean Sam going ahead with his plan to say yes to Lucifer despite Dean retracting his consent in the face of learning that their only advantage, the element of surprise, had evaporated. What Sam means by “on the same level” is that one-way street that he pretends is equality. On the same level precludes Dean questioning Sam in any way; it requires Dean’s capitulation to whatever Sam wants to do lest he be accused of preventing Sam from growing up. This is the entire framework of the end of the season, culminating in “Swan Song.”

“Swan Song,” where Dean gets to redeem himself under Sam’s fists, having learned his lesson about what it takes to properly love his brother.

> DEAN
> 
> I say we get the hell outta here.
> 
> SAM
> 
> Hell yeah.
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Hey. You wanna drive?
> 
> SAM
> 
> You sure?
> 
> DEAN
> 
> Yeah, I could, uh...I could use a nap.

As if to drive the point home (sorry not sorry), the episode ends with Dean literally handing the keys to the Impala to Sam. Sam is now in the driver’s seat. The show wants you to believe it’s for the first time. 


	40. Chapter 40

“Fallen Idols” represents the only talk the brothers will have about how they should work together after the events of season 4, about what needs to change in their relationship in the aftermath, and it heavily echoes Sam’s manipulative speech in 4.21 from the height of his destructive arc. 

An honest and open conversation about how lingering issues from their childhood impacted the decisions of BOTH men in season 4 -- not just Sam -- might be appropriate in order to more deeply repair the relationship, but only after Sam had shown any evidence of making changes to his behavior, AND only if Dean, as the victim of Sam’s violence, agreed to such a conversation. Even then the focus would need to be primarily on Sam’s responsibility, given the immensity of what he did and how he harmed Dean. No matter how Sam feels about the influence of their childhood dynamic on what he did, this was not a case of “mistakes were made on both sides.”

Not even close.

Sam has valid complaints about their partnership and about Dean’s role in their childhood dynamic, but the aftermath of his violent behavior towards Dean in season 4 and early season 5 is not the time to air them. It’s completely inappropriate. It’s emotionally violent, in fact, especially in the manipulative, blame shifting way he’s done so here. Sam deceived Dean, strangled him, scoffed when Dean tried to open up about what happened, never directly acknowledged harming Dean in any way, then reacted with hostility and shoved Dean into a wall when Dean challenged him on his ongoing dangerous behavior.

But when Dean reacts to all of this by trying to exert control over him on their first case together, Sam exploits those otherwise valid complaints to deny the present problem, attack Dean’s behavior, and reverse the roles of victim and offender until Dean takes full and sole responsibility for repairing their relationship. This can be summed up as “The way I treated you is your fault and you’re the one who needs to change to ensure I don’t do it again.”

While I do not believe there is one abuser and one victim in the brothers’ overall relationship, in this specific instance Sam is exhibiting textbook abuser behavior.

And the show throws everything it has at supporting him.

At some point you have to ask yourself: if the show does not see Sam as needing to regain Dean’s trust, does not view Sam as needing to change at all after the events it portrayed, why go to the trouble of writing this episode at all? Why go to the trouble of portraying Dean as reacting negatively to Sam in such a selective way, why not just leave it all in the memory hole and move on with a “fresh start,” with the partnership working smoothly after the brothers reconcile at the conclusion of “The End”?

It’s because after taking Sam as far over every line as they did at the end of season 4 the show knows full well it can’t just fail to address the things he did, or it will lose the audience. The uproar of the fandom in season 4 and the start of season 5 is something the show was acutely aware of, and knew they needed to deal with. In other words, there were too many loose ends. The narrative needed a moment of resolution and closure for the events of season 4 in order to move on to the plan for season 5. 

And the show knows on some level that it has failed to organically redeem Sam in the first three episodes, and that it has no plans to put in the tough, complex work that recovering Sam’s heroic status would require, and the show also has no plans to admit that maybe Sam is no longer a hero. So what option do they have but to take the half of the partnership that has retained “hero” status by not attacking his brother and murdering someone for their blood, and shifting the ultimate responsibility onto him?

All of this is consistent with the way the show has viewed these characters all along, and most importantly, develops the theme that will come to fruition at the end of the season. In fact, there’s no way to carry off something like “Swan Song” without “Fallen Idols.” It’s the key to the whole season’s arc. Otherwise, it would be unbelievable that Dean would just go along with Sam’s plan. Not because Dean refuses to “let Sam grow up,” but because it’s objectively a terrible plan. So Dean has to be manipulated by the narrative to submit to its intentions for the season by being bullied into this situation where any objection he has to Sam’s behavior or plans is painted as controlling. And the audience has to be manipulated into agreeing, into seeing this as the only way to save the world.

If you break down what happens in the first quarter of this season it becomes clear that  **what the show is really saying is not that Dean needs to “let Sam grow up,” but in fact the opposite: that Dean needs to *stop* holding Sam responsible for his actions** . This is what Dean needs to redeem himself for: failing to be there for Sam properly in season 4. Teaching Dean this lesson is the driving motivation of “The End” and “Fallen Idols.”

The manipulations I’ve described in this meta aren’t just about repairing Sam as a character, they’re also about forcing Dean back into his proper family role. Dean’s sin in season 4 and the beginning of season 5 was failing to prioritize Sam. Turning himself into a monster via drinking demon blood wasn’t exactly good for Sam, but this isn’t about protecting Sam from danger, the behavior one might be able to call failing to “let Sam grow up.” Instead what’s really being condemned is how Dean thwarted Sam, punctured Sam’s ability to see himself as heroic, failed to enable Sam’s choices, no matter how destructive, then refused to immediately forgive him for what he’d done. It’s about Dean’s perception of Sam and his failure to emotionally support him.

The aim is to restore Dean to his proper role while arguing that all of Sam’s choices were due to that role in the first place. Dean’s distrust of Sam and failing to be supportive of Sam in season 4 was breaking out of his traditional family role. Dean refusing to reconcile with Sam defies his purpose, which should be to take care of Sam’s feelings and prop up Sam’s self-perception; this is obvious from Bobby’s “boo hoo princess” speech alone. Dean’s rejection of Sam in 5.01-5.04, especially articulating a relief at and desire for freedom from Sam, was also bucking his family role. And the show can’t let that stand.

Over and over again the point is driven home: as @nottherealdean said to me, the priority is not the needs of the brother who was strangled, but the brother who needed to be saved from having gone too far and strangling him. And Dean failed to save Sam from going that far by “pushing him away” in the hotel room confrontation. By calling Sam a monster for doing monstrous things, Dean was holding Sam responsible for his actions, and now he must redeem himself for that failing.

The show habitually rests on this tension between demanding that Dean “let Sam grow up” -- that he stop being so bossy and controlling, that he stop trying to protect Sam from danger -- and that Dean save Sam or be condemned. It’s the central paradox of the brother’s relationship, as the last two episodes of season 4 illustrate. Sam tells him in the hotel room that if he doesn’t back Sam’s play he’s failing to let Sam grow up. But when Dean does attempt to “let Sam go” by resisting saving Sam from “drowning” after Sam strangled him (which would have been giving Sam what he wanted, “letting Sam grow up”), the narrative via Bobby shames him back into his role of saving Sam.

It’s an impossible situation. There was no right choice for Dean in those episodes. He was going to be held responsible for Sam’s actions no matter what he did.

These expectations coexist in a way that allows the narrative to pin responsibility for any given situation onto Dean one way or the other. You can see this throughout the series, but especially in season 2, season 4, seasons 6-9, and with Demon Dean. The moment Dean actually lets Sam be responsible for himself, the moment he steps out of his family roles, something terrible happens that requires Dean to save Sam again, thus opening him to the accusation that he’s treating Sam like a child, that he won’t “let Sam go.” And the cycle starts all over again. 


	41. Chapter 41

All of this only makes sense if you understand the show as written from a point of view that identifies with Sam and Sam’s position in his family, and sees Sam as the natural POV character. This explains how the “family first” theme only ever seems to apply to Dean, and how Dean can then be condemned for both behavior that carries out that theme and for behavior that rejects it. If Dean plays his role of obsessive protector and caretaker for Sam this reinforces all the childhood dynamics that Sam resented, therefore Dean is called to task for babying Sam or for his lack of self-esteem, his inability to let Sam go. If Dean defies that role, this threatens the very existence of the Family in Sam’s eyes -- if Dean isn’t there to play his family role, is there a family any longer? 

This is why the pressure of the apocalypse is put on Dean to reconcile with Sam in “The End.” After John’s death, from Sam’s point of view “the Family” is Dean. Sam is allowed to initiate the split in “Good God Y’all” without it being seen as a threat to “the Family” because Sam gets to play the role of rebellious son who leaves “the Family” behind -- but leaves it in a way that allows him the possibility of return when he so chooses. Dean threatened the existence of “the Family” by rejecting reconciliation with Sam in “The End,” because if Dean *is* “the Family” to Sam what happens if he abandons Sam?

If Dean rejects Sam he destroys “the Family.” If Dean rejects Sam, Sam will have no choice but to become Lucifer. And this will literally lead to the end of the world.

Dean can’t leave “the Family” in the same way Sam can, because “the Family” only exists from Sam’s point of view on this show. Dean is not (just) an individual, he is Sam’s family. This is why Sam can repeatedly insist that his leaving hunting wouldn’t destroy the family, but Dean’s rejection of Sam *does* and must be corrected using everything the show has at its disposal.

This only works if Sam’s is the only POV on the family that the show recognizes as valid.

One simple example of how this works in the first five seasons is the way flashbacks from Dean’s past tended to be presented as revelations to Sam, a way for Sam to understand his brother better, and often allowed Sam to explicitly explain Dean to himself; while flashbacks from Sam’s past were private memories not shared with Dean. Either way these events were primarily viewed through Sam’s perspective -- Sam is most often the audience surrogate. From the beginning we the audience, with Sam, discover the story of the Winchester family.

In fact Kripke spoke explicitly about how Sam’s character was intended to be the “person who the audience would most see themselves as and really carry the story through their eyes.” If you look at the assumptions inherent in this statement and how this point of view might unconsciously warp the narrative in specific directions, some things about the show itself become quite clear. Kripke assumes Sam will be the audience surrogate because Sam is the lens through which Kripke views the story he’s telling.

The premise of the show revolves around one of Sam’s original wounds: John’s rejection of him when he wanted to go to college; the conflict between the family business and Sam’s desire for his own life. The show will even manipulatively use Dean to correct the way John hurt Sam in the past rather than hold Sam responsible for how he hurt Dean in the present. No one has ever given Sam a “family’s supposed to hurt” speech. And no one ever will, because if family hurts Sam, family is at fault and must be corrected.

What happens when family hurts Dean?

The inability to recognize this question is why the core problem to be addressed from season 4 becomes how Dean was ready to let Sam "drown" after Sam strangled him, not Sam’s violent action towards Dean. When family is fucked up, you’re supposed to stand by them. If they do fucked up shit to you, it's your job to get over that and be there for them no matter what. If family strangles you, you're the one in the wrong if you can't get over that and do your job to preserve the relationship. And the only way to preserve the relationship without holding the one doing fucked up shit responsible is to take it without complaint. And they strangled you because of something you said or did, anyway.

This is why it's Dean's job to fix his relationship with Sam after season 4, rather than the other way around. It's completely dysfunctional and abusive but I think it's the throughline for everything I’ve discussed in this meta. 

Dean is “the Family.” Dean's role on this show is to keep the family together, and I think Kripke 100% sees it that way. As mentioned, Sam is not expected to do the same thing by the narrative in the same way, but this explains why in the aftermath of s4, the lesson of s5 as expressed by Kripke was "Dean needs to learn to love Sam and let him grow up.” It’s the driving force behind “Fallen Idols.” It explains “Swan Song” and why Dean's job was to be there unconditionally for Sam despite Sam’s terrible, hubristic plan. 

In [an interview](http://collider.com/supernatural-interview-eric-kripke-sera-gamble/) @juppschmitz brought to my attention , Kripke lays this dynamic out explicitly. Speaking of Dean’s role in “Swan Song,” he says:

> Salvation of the planet depended on both of them acting equally, and  **had Dean not decided to sacrifice himself and go to be with his brother because the love of family and the relationship between them trumped all, and had he not** **learned to forgive** **his brother and love him over years of experience on the show, then he never would have gone out there** , Sam would have never seen him, he never would have seen the car, and he never would have had the strength to take over his body and save the world. That was a two-man job…  **it was [the role] that [Dean] never would have done in the pilot, but learned to do in the finale** . 

Ask yourself what the emphasis on Dean “learning” to  **forgive** and love his brother “over years of experience” means in the context of season 5. Ask yourself what Kripke means when he says that this isn’t something Dean would have done in the pilot, but “learned” to do in the finale. Compare Dean of the pilot and Dean of “Swan Song” and ask yourself if the Dean you know wouldn’t have shown up exactly the same way, sacrificing himself to “go be with his brother because the love of family… trumped all” in the pilot. 

So why the emphasis on Dean forgiving Sam rather than Sam earning back Dean’s trust? 

This is very obviously a product of Sam’s specific point of view, rather than a neutral take on the events in question. The show supports this argument because it sees Dean’s failure, the one for which he’ll need to redeem himself at the end of season 5, as refusing to be there unconditionally for Sam during Sam’s time of need. Dean didn’t love Sam enough, so Dean needs to learn how to do so properly. 

This is how Kripke views Dean’s role in the season finale: Dean had to prove he’d forgiven his brother -- in other words, correct his rejection of Sam -- by his sacrifice in “Swan Song.” It’s Dean, the brother strangled, rather than Sam, who did the strangling, who ultimately must prove his love, via violent sacrifice of his body. As if Dean hadn’t been proving this very thing repeatedly over and over since the start of the series. 

What does Sam have to prove? Certainly not anything regarding his actions towards Dean. As I’ve described in this meta, Sam is not required to prove himself trustworthy after a year of lies. He’s not required to ever acknowledge directly how he harmed Dean in season 4, let alone apologize for it; and the strangulation is never mentioned again. Instead, Sam was tasked only with “cleaning up his mess” -- releasing Lucifer. As if the only thing Sam had to redeem himself for was the impersonal and world scale, rather than the personal and intimate. 

Sam is written as outward facing; Dean as inward facing. Sam’s role is to defy the family, Dean’s is to maintain the family. Sam pushes away from the family/Dean; the family/Dean pulls Sam back. Because the family is the thing to be defied, this means Dean can harm Sam but Sam is incapable of harming Dean. But the family/Dean must remain in this role, or else Sam has nothing to defy. Nothing to overcome, no way to prove himself. Without the family/Dean to defy, Sam embraces his “destiny.” 

This is why Dean’s “abandonment” of Sam in season 4 is heavily implied to have caused Sam to release Lucifer. This is why Dean’s “abandonment” of Sam in season 5 is implied to lead to the future of “The End.” Dean’s supposed smothering control of Sam (failing to “let Sam grow up”) is positioned as  _ also _ causing all of these events. Because everything about this relationship is written from Sam’s POV and revolves around Sam’s inability to truly grow up, to get over his need to defy/his need to be protected. It’s a Catch-22 with no answer, because the solution lies in Sam taking responsibility for his own life and his own actions. But the narrative is curiously blind to this fact. Because the narrative sees these characters through Sam’s eyes.

To really get a sense of how this dynamic works, use this lens to compare how the show handled what Sam did to Dean in season 4-5 with how it portrayed what Dean did to Sam in season nine. Which brother was told to suck it up and save the one who had done him great harm? Which brother is allowed to express direct and righteous anger without being immediately condemned for it by the text?

Dean is “the Family” in a way that Sam is not, therefore Sam is not expected to preserve “the Family” in the same way Dean is: by getting over any hurt inflicted on him without expectations for the one who hurt him. By taking responsibility for whatever caused the hurt in the first place. If you were hurt, it was because you weren’t filling your role properly. Therefore the solution to the problem is to play your role better. 

Sam is the one who gets to break free of family roles, or at least have his desire to break free of them explicitly validated if he’s not successful. Dean might be allowed to struggle against them, but it will always boil down to this: Dean’s job is to conform to these roles or alternatively be condemned for conforming to them, based on the requirements of the narrative, in order to preserve “the Family” and ultimately the premise of the show itself.

The narrative’s inability to look at the story beyond Sam’s POV ultimately destroyed Sam’s character and spelled the inevitable slow death of the show. By refusing to honestly confront what they’d written in season 4, the writers condemned the show to a descent into stale repetition of these core patterns I’ve described. If they’d been brave enough to defy this framework, to defy fandom pressure at easy answers, to resist the whitewashing of Sam as “hero” and an easy reconciliation between the brothers, the show could have broken new ground and explored the potentially powerful story of how an abusive and dysfunctional family system can be changed. 

This potential was there but rejected, because the narrative could not face itself. It could not let Sam face himself. So the potential to really dig into just how a character who has done horrific actions might find real, rather than forced, redemption, was rejected in favor of a story of extensive manipulation and blame shifting. Sam’s character, and the show itself, has suffered ever since.


End file.
